I still remember the old hair dryer clearly. Clunky, white and ugly, with various comb attachments. Very 70's... or maybe even 60's, my Mama rarely updated equipment, unless it broke down. I used to think it was so cool to have my hair go from wet and lacklustre to dry and silky, in a matter of minutes. I loved the way my hair gleamed after it had been blow dried.
Angus has one thick head of hair. Lustrous, blonde locks, that started growing when he was just a wee babe and haven't stopped flourishing since. I have performed many a haircut on his little head (can't half tell by the obvious bowl shape to his do) and within weeks, it always requires more trimming. It's a fairly high maintenance mane. Lately, he is kicking up a bit of a fuss when having his hair washed. He never used to. I have a secret weapon however. He loves the hair dryer. Which works perfectly, as now the weather is cooler, I prefer the boys not to have wet hair after their bath.
Like history repeating, I'm transported back to my own childhood. When my Mama would gently comb through my damp hair and the heat of the dryer would warm my shoulders. Angus requests that I dry his chest, tummy and shoulders, every time we use the hair dryer. When we're all finished and his hair is fresh and clean, I look at it shining under the light and think of what my Mama used to say once my hair had been washed and dried. My little boy's hair looks like spun gold. He is the image of his Daddy, this is for sure. But his hair is exactly like his Mama's was, at the same age.