Oscar is a typical boy.
I claim no responsibility for this.
Trailing after two girls, as he does, and spending most of his baby and toddlerhood festooned in feather boas, glitter and other feminine nonsense, you would think he would be totally down with his female side.
He does have moments of sensitivity and Fotherington Thomasishness, but for the main he is male to the core.
This involves pressing every button on the planet – thank the lord he is not in charge of our nuclear programme – hitting many things with many other things, spending large parts of the day with his hand jammed down the front of his trousers and being an unbelievable magnet for all kinds of filth and mess, which he seems blithely unaware of.
He has to be press ganged into any form of washing and/or relinquishing dirty clothes – and no matter how many times I clean it out, his bedroom has the aura of damp hamster cage – which seems to naturally ooze from his pores when he is confined to a small space for any length of time.
Yesterday I insisted that we wash his hair.
This went down about as well as a cup of cold sick:
‘But mama! I washed it a week ago.’
‘Oscar. A week ago is not acceptable.’
‘Ummmm….OK then. I washed it yesterday.’
I stare at him unrelentingly. Eventually he caves in.
‘Well. Maybe not yesterday, but probably the day before.’
So we troop upstairs where I wash his hair amidst yowls of protest.
As I’m towelling his hair he says in a muffled voice from under his turban:
‘I think I’d like to be a hair dresser when I grow up.’
I am stunned by this news.
‘Yeah. I’d be a revenge hairdresser.’
‘What’s a revenge hairdresser?’
‘Well. People come into the hairdresser’s right, and ask you for a hair style?’
‘Well. I’d say yes, but I wouldn’t have any mirrors in my shop, so I’d just do what I liked, and give them all stupid hair styles, and they wouldn’t know until the end when I showed them in my own mirror that I have just to reveal my plans. It would be brilliant.’
‘I don’t think it would catch on.’
‘No! It totally would. It would be excellent – and when bald people come in and say; ‘Oscar! Give me hair’ I’d use bum hair and put it on their head in tufts.’
I failed to ask him how he was going to get the hair from their bums to their heads without them getting wise to this, but I’m sure he has a plan.