One of the most endearing things about Stupid Daddy is that he can build or fix pretty much anything. He's framed houses and repaired dishwashers and tiled back splashes. He's completely taken apart the engine of a truck and then put it back together again. In recent weeks, he's been busy winterizing our 100-plus-year-old home--heat-shrinking plastic wrap on some windows, replacing a couple of windows entirely, weather-stripping the front door, and the like.
Another incredibly endearing thing about him is that he loves to brush and blow-dry my hair. This, however, also happens to be one of the most annoying things about him, because invariably, he forgets that there are nerves inside my scalp, and that these nerves, they feel things.
So when he's brushing my hair and he meets some resistance from a tangle putting up a good fight, he just yanks harder. And when he blow-dries my hair, he focuses on getting that one section he's working on really dry, never mind that he's dangerously close to setting my scalp on fire.
Presumably, this activity is a prelude to s-e-x. It certainly gets him in the mood. Me, not so much. But then I'm also not one to request that he handcuff me to the bedpost and drip candle wax onto my nipples.
The other night, after a trip to the grocery store, I went upstairs to find Stupid Daddy getting Lilah dressed for bed after her bath--her hair, which is now well past her shoulders, obviously brushed out and bone dry. I became concerned for her well-being.
"Does she have third-degree burns?" I asked. "Or were you gentler with her because she's only two?"
"Shut up, bitch," he said. "You're lucky I don't use my heat gun on you."
1 comment:
oh my. No candle wax eh? Bummer your missing out.
My husband will not even attempt to brush out my long hair, I think he is scared of all the tangles. So I allow him to brush my hair when it's tangle free. It feels wonderful and we both enjoy it.
Jillian
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