Saturday, January 30, 2010
It'll Grow Mom
Aren't I supposed to say that to him? Lord knows, his hair grows and grows until he can't see. I just wanted him to reveal his big brown eyes again, and perhaps get reacquainted with the brush (a mom can dream). Instead, on a day, when the wind chill was minus four, he wanted the barber to take it all off.
Did you lose a bet?
The barber joked.
His brother likes his hair super short, and I'm used to it on him. He likes to rub his hands over the top and he likes that it always looks groomed, without his actually having to groom it. He likes when the barber puts a touch of gel in the front to make it pop up a bit.
But this one, he was the crazy long-haired one. I liked the shiny shagginess of it. I also liked that even as identical twins, they had such different ways of accessorizing a very similar face (growing up, I thought that would be one of the best parts about being an identical twin. Someone to try that hair cut first. Boy, I'm a chicken.) Mom, he assured me, it'll grow.
I should be so daring.