November 18, 2016
If Arthur inherited one thing from me it’s his hair. I’ve been riddled with insecurities about my appearance for as long as I can remember. I was the kid in gym who was saying a novena if is the class involved a team sport that would require a shirts versus skins scenario. Probably because I always had that farmer’s tan and if I was chosen as a skin I would wind up looking like a kid wearing a white t-shirt with nipples.
But one thing I’ve never had to worry about is my hair. I have great hair and a pretty impressive hairline. I always knew I’d never have to worry about balding. My only recent worry is that I kind of have a hair style similar to Steve Bannon’s. And while he may be an evil guy, you can’t deny he’s got pretty good hair.
(If Robert Redford starts hating minorities and completely lets himself go, this is probably what he’d look like.)
Arthur will never have to worry about losing his hair either. If his hair is trimmed at 9am, it’s grown over his eyes by 5pm. It’s an extreme 5 O’clock shadow. He puts Fabio to shame. He may even have a future as a Harlequin Romance Book cover model.
He’ll just have to feather his mane out a little.
(This style is a little Hitlery.)
My wife is always paranoid about using scissors on Arthur. He jerks around a lot. To solve this problem she bought something called a razor comb.
What a razor comb does is allow you to trim hair without risking jabbing or cutting someone. What a great idea! The only problem is that I didn’t know what a razor comb was and my wife didn’t inform me that she bought one. She keeps me in the dark a lot. Can you see where this is going? You probably can. The direction of this runaway train was headed straight to my one security and the brakes weren’t working.
Wednesday, November 16 – 7:37am
Like every morning, I get out of the shower and begin my search for a brush or comb. My wife likes to brush her hair and immediately place the brush somewhere it will never be found. We have five or six brushes and you might find them in spots ranging from the kitchen freezer to the outside mailbox. That’s the type of system we run in our home. Looking for any implement to comb my hair, I spot what LOOKS like a comb. I take a single swipe through my hair in the spot I always begin, in the front. Here’s the result.
This is just a sampling of the hair I lost. The first swipe of a comb or brush is always the most aggressive. Here’s what my hairline looks like now.
Let’s just ignore my oily forehead and drink the tremendous amount of scalp that’s now exposed. I even see a couple of those brown spots you get from age. There’s no real solve for this issue. I don’t work in an office where I can wear a baseball hat. I could attempt to change my style and wear a knit hipster hat but everyone’s going to think I’m going through a mid-life crisis.
(I don’t see these people taking me in as one of their own.)
Of course when something this tragic happens blame needs to be assigned. Do I blame my wife? Not a chance. In the beginning of every relationship you establish who gets to win arguments. In the first month dating my wife it became clear that she was going to be the argument winner. I was glad to lose every fight to someone willing to date me. Since we’ve been together my record in arguments is 0-10,000. No sense in going 0-10,001.
That leaves the kid with all the hair.
Thanks, Arthur. I know you’re too young to get sarcasm, but I’m laying it on thick.
Least Favorite Child Results
There’s a lot of catching up to do as I was buried in work. I’ll try to give a briefer synopsis.
October 31-November 5
Arthur gets Least Favorite Honors four days to Charles two. Arthur’s low light comes on Halloween when he tried to swallow the sleeve on his scarecrow outfit.
(I’m the witch. I may wear that hate for a while.)
November 7 – 12
The boys split honors 3-3 this week. I’ll be honest. Neither were standouts nor did they provide any memorable shenanigans. A tie for the week seems right.
November 13 – Charles is Least Favorite. Mostly because I took both boys out for a stroll and people kept saying Arthur was a pretty girl and two people assumed they were my grand kids. I choose Charles as LF as a show of solidarity to Arthur.
November 14 – Arthur is Least Favorite. Getting him into the car on this particular morning was a battle. A battle that people passing by knew I was losing. He used the “stiff body” method to avoid getting into his car seat. He’d be an awesome protester. Good luck getting this guy into a police car.
November 15 – Charles is Least Favorite. No one likes a morning person, and Charles is a morning person. If he could walk it down to a 7, I could deal with it, but he jumps out of bed at a full 10. I’m nice enough to give him a polite smile.
November 16 – Charles is Least Favorite. He doesn’t seem to be phased in the least that Donald Trump is the President Elect. That type of self absorbed personality is off putting.
November 17 – Arthur is Least Favorite. Doesn’t matter how late I wait to change his diaper before bed time. He’ll still poop moments before I put him in the crib.
Least Favorite Child Year One – Charles
Total Days As Least Favorite Child – Year Two
Arthur – 82
Charles – 76
Days since Neil Patrick Harris received my post and hasn’t responded – 464