Getting the 12yo to wash her newly greasy hair is always a bit of a challenge, so I usually save it for when we’re about to see someone who will care (like grandma) or it gets so bad it smells. Today I asked her to shampoo and “the usual” kicked into gear. She went and thoroughly brushed it (a minor victory in itself!) and then came back to ask, “Does it look okay now?”
Sadly, it did not, whereupon the next level started: “But it doesn’t look greasy to ME! Why do you say it looks greasy?”
“Well, because I am a mean, evil mom who delights in your distress and whose primary goal is to make your life hell on earth, dearest.”
Properly abashed, she yet pressed on: “But why can’t I see it? Why do you say it looks greasy and it doesn’t look greasy to ME?”
“Well, sweetie, you are twelve years old. Do you notice when your shirts are dirty?” Her eyes went a little wide and she shook her head. “And do you notice when your braces need cleaning?” Now her head drooped as she shook her head again. I didn’t even have to say anything else, as she headed for the shower.
