Hair
It was Easter weekend again, much to Booth's delight. Last year he'd been in Afghanistan and had missed his son terribly, especially on Easter.
While he had to split Parker's time off from school during spring break with Rebecca, she'd always let their son spend all of Easter weekend with Booth, and it had become their special counted-upon time together. They had certain things they always did to mark the occasion. On Friday morning, they'd go pick out new ties at the T.J. Maxx at the National Mall. Its selection was appealing and the prices didn't break Booth's FBI salary budget. They went to church for a brief service Friday afternoon and again on Sunday morning, when they both got all dressed up, wore their new ties, and sang as loud as they could. Other than that the weekend was theirs to relish together. Chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast with more syrup than Rebecca allowed, dyeing boiled eggs, candy hunts and throwing their football at the park. The candy hunts had become shorter as Parker got older, and the football game longer, but he still loved his chocolate marshmallow eggs.
On this particular weekend, the hockey game they watched Saturday night went into overtime, and Booth had to awaken a sleeping Parker to move from the couch to his bed. Sunday morning, Booth arose early, showered, and then woke Parker to dress while he cooked up breakfast. "Gee, Dad, it feels like I just went to bed," Parker grumbled. "Go get showered, bub, I've got your pancakes nearly ready, and we don't want to be late for church unless you want to stand the whole time. If you want to check the candy stash in your basket before we leave, better get a move on," Booth reminded him. Parker ambled into the bathroom, and shut the door.
Flipping the pancakes, Booth heard the water stop running. He set the table, stuck the plate of pancakes in the warm oven, and opened his newspaper to check the hockey scores.
A bit later, he called "Parker, how're you doing in there?"
Through the door came a muffled reply, "Dad, I think I need some help in here….."
Opening the bathroom door, Booth had to stifle a grin. Parker's hair was coated in hair gel….'way too much hair gel…. "Son, what were you thinking? You look like Elvis Presley." Parker moaned, "My hair's always so curly, I wanted to look good for Easter like you, Dad. So I squirted the tube of your hair gel onto my head, but I got too much!" "Ya think?" his dad grimaced.
Booth grabbed a towel and wiped most of the gel out of Parker's hair, took his comb and restyled his son's damp hair. "Okay, I think if you let that dry, you'll look okay. You know, the first lesson on hair my barber dad taught me when I was really small was that 'less is best' when it comes to styling products. You always squeeze some into the palm of your hand, not onto your hair. And not nearly so much," he chuckled.
"I guess I won't forget this Easter, Dad. I thought I was gonna hafta go to church looking like Sheldon on "The Big Bang Theory." Thanks for fixing my hair. I won't ever do that again! Thanks….now can I eat my pancakes? I'm Starving!