This was my son last night, quietly contemplating how he had never received a terrible haircut in his whole life.
This is Nathan this morning, after a failed haircut and an even worse job to even said haircut. I wish I had a time travel device to step back to 6:30 AM to snatch the scissors and electric clippers from my bleary-eyed delusional self. It started out with a trim, but then Nathan jerked his head and I thought I could shear off a bit to even it out. And five minutes later, I turned my son into a Susan Powter look-alike.
Luckily, his hair grows as quickly as mine and he’s completley oblivious that his mother has made his hair mirror that of a early 90’s exercise loon. I can’t even blame this fiasco on stuck gum or lice–he’s developed a serious case of Incompetent Parent. If his hair grows back to its lucious length, you’ll know it’s in remission.