Shampoo Mohawk

It has become routine for me to give Ian his bath. I used to avoid this. Trying to scrub moving parts can get quite tricky; however, I soon moved past this and came to realize that these are some of the prime bonding moments I have with my son. Ian received his first shampoo mohawk last night. I cannot believe it took me so long to initiate this standard staple of bath-hood. He may not realize the significance of an awesome mohawk yet, but he’ll thank me later in life. We’ve also created a new activity/tradition, birthed from the intense process of rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. (I say intense because he howls like a banshee and/or sobs uncontrollably during this process. I suppose it’s my fault that I recently discovered that I wasn’t shielding his eyes very well. It’s a learning process, folks.) Anyway, I will fill the rinsing device with water and pour it out slowly in a steam. Ian LOVES to try and grab the stream, and he is extremely amused by the fact that he can’t grab it. Of course, he laughs constantly during this process, looking at me to see if I realize that the funniest thing in the world is happening. After I stopped doing this last night, he simply laughed and pointed at me, delightfully yelling “Daddy! Daddy!”. I was so happy in that moment, I thought my heart would propel from my chest and slap against the tile on the other side of the tub. It’s moments like that I don’t want to ever forget. (NO, he was not laughing AT me. Don’t ruin my moment). All that to say, it’s those nuggets of spontaneous joy, buried within the routine, that are simply amazing. What I used to avoid has turned into one of the best parts of my life. With a mohawk.