R5 Preferences!

He Tries To Do Your Daughter's Hair

Ross: “OW!” your daughter screams, on the verge of tears. She holds her head, whining now. “Sorry, sorry, sit still,” he orders, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration. After another ten minutes of hair tugging and crying, he’s finally done. She runs gratefully to look in the mirror, her widening at the mess. She stomps back into the living room, giving him a glare. “Next time, mommy does it,” she says angrily. 

Riker: “It’s hot,” she whimpers, pushing all her hair back messily. You’re busy chasing around your other daughter, twins might I add. “Up!” she says over and over again, pointing to her famous blond locks. He looks around in panic, searching for you on the beach, but you were too far ahead. “Okay,” he sighs, “Come here.” She shows him where a hair tie is, and hands it to him. He sits for five minutes, raking up the hair, but another piece falls. Your daughter sighs, rolling her eyes. “I’ll do it,” her tiny voice says. 

Rocky: He was a pro at helping with your daughters hair, knowing exactly what to do by now. She skips into the room, grabbing her bag full of hair supplies. “You want me to do your hair?” you ask, smiling. She smiles back, shaking her head. “No, daddy will do it,” she replies, handing him the box. You pretend to be upset, making her giggle in response. “I want pigtails!” she says excitedly, handing him the brush. And by the time that he’s done, it looks way better than it would if you had done it. 

Ratliff: She comes in the room with what looks like a beehive on her head, tangles everywhere. “What did you do?” he asked, completely shocked. “Mommy wasn’t here, so I tried to fix my hair,” she said sadly. “You could have asked me to help,” he offered. She rolled her eyes, “Yeah right,” she giggled. “Come here, I got this,” he says determined, brushing out each tangle. After a few minutes, it looked relatively the same. “This is harder than it looks…” he chuckled. “We might need your mom,” he adds. 

Ryland: You two were bickering back and forth, having little competitions all day to see who would win. He had won almost everything, and next, it was your turn to pick the challenge. “We both have to do (y/d/n) hair,” you smirk, knowing you were gonna win this one. “Not fair!” he argues, slouching. “Oh no,” your daughter says, her eyes widening. You were up first, and you had ten minutes for her hair. He was next, doing the same. After you were both done, your daughter got to pick the winner. “Mommy,” she laughed, “Daddy didn’t do a very good job at all,” she added.