Moar Hare

It is becoming a bit of a ritual at my house... Most nights as I put my youngest to bed, I sing her a little song, lean down to hug and kiss her and she reaches up to pluck a few of the few remaining hairs I have out of my head. I guess it is a cute and comforting way for her to participate in this disease I am living through this summer. I probably need to break the ritual though before too long, when my hair regrows and little Faye is yanking on my head getting pissed that the hair no longer just slips right out of the follicle.