Gimme some of that hair

My son Max is three months old today. (Yea! We survived the first three months.) He has become fascinated with his hands, constantly attempting to shove them both in his mouth. When they are not in his mouth, he uses them to grab my hair. Of course, he has started this phase right when my hair has started the postpartum “falling out at the slightest provocation” phase. (Seriously, my comb is so furry when I comb my hair after a shower that I almost think it’s a fourth cat.) So now, in addition to the lint he usually accumulates in the palm of his hands somehow, they are also covered with drool and usually clutching a strand or two (or more) of my hair. Pretty picture, right? Actually, yes. It’s the most beautiful picture in the world. (Although I do try not to sniff his hands too closely at times.)

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