So the kid has been out back playing in the little bit of snow we got today, and just came in the back door while I was making enchiladas. I hear her ask from behind me, "Do I have snow on my head?"
I cringe. I know my child well enough to know that I probably do not want to turn and look. *sigh* I do anyway. "Yes, you do. Go OUTSIDE and brush it off."
She does so, then returns and races down the hall. "Imgoingrightbackout!" she calls over her shoulder.
Meanwhile I shove the enchiladas into the oven to do their thing. I glance at the sliding door and outside is Dusty, covered in snow. "Geez, the dog is covered in snow, too!"
The kid calls out, "That's because she's been rolling in it!"
Oh, swell. I leave the kitchen and head into the living room.
"I have, too!" chirps my child.
AUUUGGGHHHHH... I don't realize that I have actually voiced my anguish aloud until the kid says, "What?"
"Nothing." I grump. "I'm sure there isn't an ounce of dirt in your hair."
...so does anyone make industrial-strength shampoo?