Another Hairy Situation
Dawson awoke this morning with hair even more smashed and spiked than usual. "Come here and let me comb your hair," I commanded as a normal part of the morning routine.
"Why do you have to comb my hair every day?" he wanted to know.
"Dawson, do you want to go to school and have all of your friends see you like this?"
"Y-E-S!" he said with way more enthusiasm than I dreamed.
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