Hair

Last week Timmy and I had a conversation about hair. It was first thing in the morning. Timmy was sitting on the toilet and I was sitting in front of him: we were waiting for things to happen (for the poo-poo to wake up, as we like to say now that we heard my bro's family say it). Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Your hair is crazy today.
Timmy: I put it on my pillow last night.
Me: You must have slept crazy; it's sticking up all over.
Timmy: (While looking up at the ceiling) It's way up there? Up to the light?
Me: (holding my hair up as high as it will go) No, not that high. Mommy's hair doesn't go that high.
Timmy: (leaning forward and running his finger along my upper lip) You got hair on there Mama. It needs to come off.
Me: (laughing my tushie off and thinking about how darn cute he is).