Here's my niece, Ivy, as a mermaid. She just spent a week in Florida with her mom and grandparents. I was a bit jealous. I'm sure she had a wonderful time.
I just adore Ivy. She's 4 1/2. She'll be 5 in July. We always have a great time together.
Except for that one time when I was trying to comb her hair out...
She'd been with my brother, Pete, in Vermont for a week and little dreads were starting to form. I knew her mom wouldn't appreciate getting her daughter back as a Rastafarian so I attempted to comb it out. Her mom had sent along a spray-in hair de-tangler which works pretty well, if you can get Ivy to sit still long enough.
I worked in sections around her head, spraying in the de-tangler and then combing it out. She'd last about 3 minutes (if that) and need to get up for something. Each time I'd have to ask her to come back and sit down. Sometimes, it was to get a doll. Other times it was to move a loaf of bread. And then move the same loaf of bread again. Halfway through she got up and got me a glass of water! I continued to comb out the dreads and when she got up one last time I told her I was finished. She said, "you didn't finish." I said, "you kept getting up." She went whining to Pete, who witnessed the whole thing, "Papa, she wouldn't even give me a chance."
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