Dad and his Girls

The dad spent valuable time navigating through their hair.
The whines and sighs of his two daughters reminded him of a lack of talent and his impatience with the needed duty. His morning whine sounded like some sick house cat as the mom left for work early that particular morning.

It was just a relaxed summer day, just as the day before. No snarls of traffic, only the lovely green bottle of detangler he lived for. The girls covered there eyes as the mist formed little droplets on their brown curls. The favored brush worked its way around their scalps, stopping periodically at a dreadlock like mass of unruly charges. The beautiful container of elixir was worked until fingers cramped. Soon, the grooming tool slid through as smoothly as a knife spreads cake frosting. His fumbling digits wrapped a decorative band around their ponies numerous times. The  smiling young ladies were very enhanced with themselves in the mirror. Somehow, he coaxed them away from the reflective glass that had their likenesses burned in forever from their vain staring and funny face glancing.
After breakfast was over, and clothes had been changed for the fourth time, departure was eminent. You would think a visit with the mayor was scheduled, but it was just a trip to town.

This day, it was the, "spider web park", as the kids referred to it. An awesome geometric mass of red rope and silver connectors that was a kid lure of magical proportions. The climbing structure was large and had something new to find each visit. New friends were made and imaginative youthful games created.

Dads attention was grabbed when rare new happy screams and laughter flew over to him from the shiny plastic blue slides. His short walk led him to a group of five to seven year old girls that were laughing and pointing. He was handed two hair bands by his daughters, and his relentless earlier work with the brush was relegated to distant memory. The large slide had created a world of static, and hair like Albert Einstein during a lightning storm. Perfect circular fuzzballs of hair on each of the children earned this type of giggle that had been unheard in recent recollection. As they began again, their experimental positioning led to sliding techniques that were perfected and repeated for the best hair raising.

After saying the goodbye's, and the third last time down the slide, the van was loaded.
The next stop was the beach. Towels were handed out, the splashing began, and the dad knew that mom would handle his other least favorite task of giving the post-beach bath.

A very familiar ringtone sounded inside his bag, and his fears were realized. The swimmers and sunbathers looked around for an ill animal, but the odd sounds were his, have to give the kids their bath, cry. Soon, his weak behavior subsided, and a smile returned to his face. He was playing with his children, the unconditional love being strong and forever. So what if he smelled like an over the top watermelon after the bubble bath. At least he noticed the two new bottles of liquid treasure he would spray again, and again.