oh boy

It was a liiiitle too quiet upstairs while the boy was getting ready for bed. I went up picturing toothpaste finger-paint art on the walls, giant dixie cup constructions, batman action figures disappearing down the toilet, etc.

What I found was J standing at the bathroom mirror, hairbrush in hand, smoothing his hair in to a dapper little coiffure, sort of slicked off to the side.

"Whatcha doin J?" I asked.

"My hair, " he replied.

"Why?" I inquried.

"For [NAMED A GIRL IN HIS CLASS], I want her to like my style."

I just backed slowly out of the room.

wow.