Thursday, September 13, 2012

Ode to the "bullet"

There aren't too many posts I write that I think to myself afterwards, "wow, she's really going to kill me some day, isn't she?" But this post? Yeah, it's one of them.

For the last few months a number of people have asked what I'm going to do about your hair. And I always reply, "what do you mean?" And then they proceed to point out that you're sort of rocking a messy baby mullet. I just smile and laugh.

Sporting the baby mullet
You're a toddler. You make a mess of your hair every five minutes. Not a day goes by that you don't pretend syrup or black bean juice or cheese sauce (or even all three) is a new type of hair gel. Any and all attempts to wrangle your hair into clips, headbands, or elastics end up in vain as you promptly {and with attitude} pull whatever it is out, throw it on the floor, and give me a death look.

Given that even if you allowed me to stick some elastics in there, I'd have to take them out a half hour later to wash avocado slime out of your hair, I just don't have the energy to care that you have a mullet. If anything, I've grown to adore it, and I even affectionately refer to it as your "bullet" - or baby mullet. Let's celebrate it, in all it's business-up-front-party-in-the-back glory.
The bullet, on vacation at Virginia Beach - August 2012
But oh, sweet recent weeks it has gotten a little out of control. I'm not sure for how much longer I can let this go - or grow - on.
The bullet - TODAY
So how about you let me put something - ANYTHING at all in that little mess? Just one clip? Or a teeny tiny elastic? You'll barely notice it's there, promise.

Don't touch my hair I LOVE it!
Okay, I give up. The bullet it is. At least for the immediate future.

Who else's kid is sporting a baby mullet? There's got to be some out there...I hope ;)

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