As I sat on the couch this morning, Reed and Jaxon stood behind me and ran their hands through my hair. Reed said he was "styling" my hair, and Jaxon just squealed--amazingly, he refrained from actually pulling my hair.
I used to pretend to wash my dad's hair. And I pretended to cut it. He was patient enough to let me do it for about ten minutes at a time, and he usually ended up with a "style" that looked like he'd had a really bad haircut where none of the pieces would lie down.