Point And Counterpoint

Sometimes I think bald babies are under-appreciated. I think the moms of the world would be a bit less frazzled if all children were bald for the first 3 years of life. After all, hair is not crucial to the child's well being; we would be much better off without baby hair.

And here is my supporting evidence.

Lauren woke up this morning with a sweetly scented, fluffy head of hair. She doesn't have a lot of hair yet, but it's just enough to comb to one side and call it good. After breakfast was done, that sweet soft hair was plastered to one side of her head with pasty baby oatmeal. On the non-cerealed side, it was studded with bits of squishy green kiwi and tiny black seeds. I tried wiping it all off with a wet washcloth but she has just too much hair for that to have been successful. Poor Lauren was left with flattened, faintly acidic smelling locks. The shape of her skull was perfectly apparent under her new helmet of cereal hair.

At lunch, we got fast food for a sick big sister whose whims needed catering to. (That big sister climbed straight into bed before eating any of her desired chicken nuggets, but whatever.) Lauren devoured her nuggets and fries before grabbing two handfuls of now-dried cereal hair with two very greasy hands. She was left with free standing piggy-tails, dotted with potato crumbs.

I tried to stop her.

Which only encouraged her.

She decided she wanted bananas (telling me BAH!nanana, and shaking her head very quickly from side to side with joyful anticipation.), and managed to eat a few bites before smashing several chunks of them into the back of her scalp. It's like she could tell the exact location of the only remaining area that had yet to be defaced.

Only, she seemed to have forgotten about one teensy tuft of hair just behind her right ear. This single tuft curls and flips and is absolutely precious even on a clean-headed day. So it's especially attractive when compared with the caked-on mess of hair she's achieved with a half day's worth of meals.

While cleaning her up after lunch, I leaned in for a sniff of that innocent, unadulterated curl.

I inhaled...

And I nearly swooned at it's perfect baby-ness. Silky soft, fresh and clean, shiny and golden. It wrapped itself around my heart and tickled my baby-loving soul.

*shaking myself out of a trance*

So anyway, I think I was saying something about why babies should be bald.

And about that?

Never mind.

I've flip-flopped my position.



Update: Dinnertime earned Lauren a spaghetti and cantaloupe juice mohawk. What a day.