We go through this every summer. During the school year, I don't care about the boy's hair as long as I can see his face. But eventually it gets so long that shopkeepers start referring to him as my daughter, and people mistake him for a girl fairly regularly. He loves his hair long, but once it gets too long, it starts getting very poofy and out of control, and then he starts whinging for a haircut.
Yesterday was the day. I bought him in to get his haircut and he told the stylist he wanted it shorter, but still long. She gave him a semi-mullet. We were horrified. Once I got him home, I took a scissors to his head and cut the sides and back so at least he looks less like he comes from a mountain tribe in the Ozarks. Lordy, a mullet in 2006. What was she thinking?
He is not a happy camper. He asked me last night if he could borrow a razor to shave his head. No, I think not. But something needs to be done. He's got big hair on the top now, and I think we need to thin it out some.
Poor kid. He said, "I don't have beautiful locks anymore. I look so bad. Oooohhhhhh."
It's not THAT bad, is it? Stumble It! JBlog Me