A case of crunchy head

If there were an award for the best crunchy head, Ladybug would win.

You know what I’m talking about.

Anytime there’s something sticky on her plate, it ends up in her hands, which end up in her hair, which ends up drying into crunchy chunks, á la “There’s Something About Mary” style.

But I much prefer crunchy head to stinky head, that period when Ladybug was three or four months old and would suck her fingers and run them through her hair. Her head would smell like a bad case of morning breath.

At least now, Ladybug’s crispy hair is more likely to exude the sweet smell of strawberries or peaches.

And that’s a breath of fresh air.