Being a hero in the eyes of my little ones is a perk of motherhood I expected. I assumed I’d be saving my kids from bees, the deep end of the swimming pool, and the mean kids at the park, but I never thought I’d be rescuing my sons from strands of hair and an inflatable penguin. I’m sure my boys will grow out of this phase, but right now, what horrifies them is hilarious to me.

My two-year-old is a little particular (that’s particular, not peculiar). He likes to clean, likes things in order, and he doesn’t like his hands dirty or sticky. (We gave him a glazed doughnut, and he asked for gloves. After a debate, we settled on a fork). I can only guess that his aversion to “yucky” things led to his fear of hair. He’s not afraid of the hair on our heads, just the loose pieces that you might find in the tub or on the floor. 

I don’t blame him for being a little disgusted by a random hair, but this is a real toddler-phobia. When he sees a hair, he backs away or scrunches up in the corner of the bathtub, points at it, and shouts, “Hair! Hair! Hair!” until I remove it. My son reacts to a strand of hair the way most of us would react to a bat in the house… read more.

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