So lately, Logan has been on a roll. On Monday, my mom promised Logan that she would come and spend the night. He was crying Sunday that he wanted her and squeezed out a little tear, so she couldn't resist. He's good at that.
They slept in his brand new Star Wars bed and began getting ready for school in the morning. My mom got out the comb and started to do Logan's hair. So here was their conversation:
"Grandma, what are you doing?. . . "I'm combing your hair, Logan." "But Grandma! It isn't picture day! Dad only does my hair on picture day!"
So my mom fixes it all up and Logan takes about five steps out of the door, looks at the neighbors (Tyler and Riley) and runs his fingers through his hair a bunch of times to mess it all up again.
Apparently it isn't cool to comb your hair, unless it's picture day.
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