by Marissa McLoughlin
And then school started and with it came the dreaded hair brush that waved itself like an evil wand wreaking havoc over each and every school morning. Between 7.45am and 8.15am Monday to Friday, we had tears, we had screams, we had chasey around the house. My two boys looked on in bewilderment as Lucy fought like a baby tiger. My husband and I tried being gentle, tried being firm, we tried encouragement, we tried out and out bribes. As the months wore on, the morning Hair Ritual was the hot potato we each tried to give to the other to take on.
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