My daughter loves wearing those “Scrungy” things in her thick, beautiful, curly long toffee- colored hair. Both our current Bolivian and former Brazilian au pair take those beautiful locks and twist, twine and twirl those tresses into works of art. (Men: Don’t try this at home without female supervision.)
Let me explain the problem. I’m sitting here with my father-in-law, discussing Scrungies. He tells me he saw a father on You Tube use a vacuum cleaner to put on a “Scrungy.” Wish I had known that one. He followed that up by asking me if they weren’t easy to put on as well as remove?
Creating single or double balls of hair is no problem at all, unless your daughter, wife and any female within a 50 mile radius happen to be present. Females don’t seem to like walking around with snow cones sticking from their heads.
These rubber hair torture bands are equally as easy to remove, depending on the pain tolerance of your child. I’ve been a massage therapist for 17 years and I’ve never inflicted any pain on a client as much as my daughter claims I do removing those hair thingies.
Both my children hopped into the tub (willingly) tonight. Brandon (age 5 1/2) made soap and conditioner soup; Lindsay (age 4 1/2) had to wait until the ingredients became available to make her soup. We wash Brandon’s hair, body, followed by a shampoo and a shower rinse—then out. (Soap soup leaves an itchy film on an otherwise clean body.)
Then we have a problem. Daughter has strings of death in her hair. Marc scrambles for solution to problem. Wife unavailable.
He has daughter wash first to avoid having to remove torture implement himself. Wife unavailable.
Marc asks Mom Mom, grandmother on duty, to help. Mom Mom says, “I don’t want to hurt her.” I can’t make stuff up like this. Wife still unavailable.
Marc sucks it up, whacks his head against a wall a few times, looks fiercely into a mirror and heads into the bathroom. Scrungy puts up a good fight, but eventually gives up the ghost. Daughter appears to have suffered only minor injuries. Medics not called.
It doesn’t get any better with clothes and bathing suits. Helping put on a daughter’s bathing suit baffles me. How the heck do I know where the butterflies go? Let’s avoid any and all discussions about how to put on straps and in which direction. Bikinis raise my blood pressure beyond all discussion.
I’m sure many men have the capacity to learn how to do these things. We can change diapers, warm formula and cart the children to and fro. I’m just as sure that when it comes to certain, secret female held traditions and secrets, that I will find a bar—any bar, order a beer and watch whatever current sport is playing on the television and revel in being a male.
Soap Soup Recipe
1 bathtub filled with warm water and 2 small children 1 bar white bath soap (Ritz Carlton bath soap, preferred) (Scrape about 4 oz. of shavings from the bar of soap with your fingernail) 1 plastic bottle holding 6 oz. shampoo (Ritz or Marriott both work here) 1 plastic bottle holding 6 oz. conditioner (hotel of your choice) 2 plastic bowls, 1 quart capacity 4 bath towels 3 bath mats 4 face towels 3 hand towels Mix children, soap and soap shavings in tub of warm water. Add conditioner for body Stir constantly until either children are clean or beer(s) are gone Serve two dry children to wife, clothing optional