Speaking of things that scare me...

The other day I wrote about how I am scared pregnancy will leave me with permanent brain damage. Today let's discuss another of my very legitimate fears, my daughter's hair.

Like most expectant parents, while anticipating her arrival, Dingle and I spent hours talking about what Lily would look like. What color eyes would she have? Who's nose would she get? Blah blah blah. There were several features we sort of hoped she wouldn't get, mainly her daddy's gigantic dumbo over-sized ears and my dreadful hair. Can you say double whammy!

I have written about my hair before and those that know me will attest to it's fineness. I have never met anyone with finer or thinner hair...until my daughter was born. Let's just say, I see tears and thousands of dollars in styling products in our future. Luckily for Lily I have picked up a few tricks along the way for dealing with our hair's unique unmanageability (yes I just made that a word, it works. go with it). Unluckily for Lily she didn't just get my hair...she also got her daddy's fabulous double cowlick. What the hell is a double cowlick you ask, allow me to introduce you to what I call "The Perfect Storm". Be afraid.

As you can see in the above photo my daughter's hair grows in from the back of her head in TWO different swirling directions. Matt has something similar however his swirl in the same direction. I have absolutely no idea how to tame this beast. No matter how I try and brush it, inevitably I am "forcing" some of the hair in a direction it was not meant to be.

If the perfect storm was her only issue I wouldn't be as afraid. Add to the ridiculous swirling effect that she only has about 100 stands of hair total, that each strand is baby fine, and every morning without fail her hair looks like this. *Warning what you are about to see is not for the faint of heart*

Yes, those are the makings of baby dreads. Every single day. The friction of rubbing her head on the crib combined with static from the dry air twists her delicate strands into intricate knots that stick straight off the back of her head. When she sees me coming at her with the detangling spray and a hair brush she runs screaming in the other direction as I yell "...but it smells like watermelon!!"

We all live in a constant state of fear that one day her hair will become immune to the detangling spray and will succeed in its plans for world domination.

Constant fear I tell you.