Miles burst into the bathroom this morning as I was getting ready and, seeing that I was styling my hair, insisted that he wanted some of my forming cream. While I’d normally be fine with it, this was clearly one of those rare mornings where he had actually allowed Jaclyn to use his spray gel; his hair was already handsomely styled. When he became upset that I wouldn’t put any of my product in his hair, I decided to try shifting focus to how good his hair already looked. I lifted him up so we could see each other in the mirror.
“See?” I asked, pointing at him. “Doesn’t your hair look good?”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“And what about mine? Does mine look good?”
“Let me see.” He pushed my head down so he could get a good look at the front AND the back.
“Hmmm. No.”
“What’s wrong with it?” I asked, frantically trying to correct the problem with my free hand. “Is it the back?”
“No,” he said. “It looks like a barnyard animal hair.”
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 