Girly -Girl is definitely pubescent and Silly-Head is on the fringe thereof. Consequently, they've both developed something in the way of oily skin. This has necessitated more more parental encouragement to shower and many admonishments to wash their heads not once, but twice while bathing.
This vigilant parental oversight has helped to keep the hair slicks to a minimum, but they are both still having issues with mild acne. You know, just a random pimple or three on Girly-Girl and some rough pimply like patches on Silly-Head's cheeks.
So yesterday I decided to step up their hygiene regimen and bought them some face wash. 'Tis a mild one for oily skin and it comes in a pump. I set it on the sink and, last evening, announced that they needed to start washing their faces each night before bed.
Girly-Girl just kept reading her book, but Silly-Head bounced into the bathroom. She eyed the pump bottle skeptically, "What do I do?"
So I explained the routine, "Pull your hair back out of the way, get your face wet with warm water, squirt the stuff on your hands, rub your hands together, then rub the soapy stuff on your face (but not on your eyes). Rinse and you're done. Easy Peasy!"
Then I left her alone, confident she could handle these simple ablutions.
Moments later she called from the bathroom, "So, I have to get my face wet first?"
"Yes. Wet your face, wash with the soapy stuff, rinse it off."
"Do I put it on my hands first?"
"On your hands, then on your face. Wash and rinse. Simple as pie!"
"Which part of my face do I put it on?"
"All your face except for your eyes. You don't want to get the cleanser in your eyes."
About this time Girly-Girl joined her sister in the bathroom to watch the proceedings.
"OK..." Silly-Head's voice called out, "Now, do I rinse it off?"
"Yes Silly-Head, rinse it off. You don't want to leave soap on your face all night!"
Girly-Girl came back out with a curled lip and raised eyebrows, "I don't need to to that too, do I?"
"Yes, my darling child, you need to do it too. You need to wash your face. Every night. Wash, wash, wash! You are an adolescent. You have oily skin. WASH!"
She went back into the bathroom, lips set in a tight line. A moment later she called out, "Do I get my face wet first?"
Practicing great self-control, I walked calmly into the bathroom and spoke in a tightly polite voice of command, "Pull your hair back out of the way, get your face wet with warm water, squirt the stuff on your hands, rub your hands together, then rub the soapy stuff on your face (but not on your eyes). Rinse and you're done. Easy Peasy! Do you understand?"
She looked at me like I was nuts for giving such a detailed explanation, nodded, then proceeded to splash water on her face. That's when I noticed that Silly-Head was standing, leaning slightly over the tub, face dripping.
"What are you doing, Silly-Head?"
"Well, I wasn't sure if I should dry my face or not..."