I believe I have mentioned that Paul wants to grow his hair down to his waist. He is very enamored of his hair and wants to make sure that it looks nice, so he tolerates me combing out the bedhead every morning and occasionally using a little bit of hairspray to make his bangs behave. I thought my lack of daughters meant I would be spared from hairstyling duty, but Paul has proven me wrong.
For the last two mornings, when I have started to comb Paul's hair, there has been a strange, sticky, slippery substance on the back of his head. We inspected the pillows and chairs and found nothing, so finally I asked Paul if he had put something in his hair. The look on his face told me all I needed to know. We asked him what he had used, and he said, in a thoroughly embarrassed little voice, "Hair stuff." I knew there was no way whatever was in his hair was actually a hair product. So he led us to the bathroom and pointed to... a pot of lip gloss. After we stopped laughing, we had to send him off to school with lip gloss in his hair because there was no time to wash it out.