Do you remember THIS boy from the 4th of July? The boy with the shaggy hair who lit all the smoke bombs and firecrackers off?
I think I had this exact same photo of Shaun Cassidy Scotch-taped to my bedroom wall. I’d VERY CAREFULLY pulled the staples out of the Tiger Beat magazine, so that I didn’t rip a big hole out of the folded crease across Shaun’s teeth.
Just check out that HAIR GLORY!
(I liked to think that the personalized signature at the top was meant for me, back in the day.)
The boy was truly on his way to achieving the Feathered Hair Victory, exactly like the old American heartthrob from The Hardy Boys. I was truly on my way to buying him a long-handled comb to keep in the back pocket of his Jordache jeans.
Sometimes, though, a sweaty ball cap during a baseball game on a hot night SCREWED UP the perfectly-feathered sides.
And then, on Friday, Hubs and I took the boy to Bigger Town, USA to see the orthodontist, who assured us that, “Whoa, Nelly! The braces and metal apparatuses that I cram into THAT mouth are going to single-handedly pay the mortgage on my new 5,000 square-foot cabin in Aspen!”
And then he said, “Although I’m visiting with my Realtor NOW in Colorado, you’re a year out from having a chain-link fence installed on your boy’s teeth, because we need some big teeth to actually grow IN first.”
After that, we bopped around Bigger Town and did our holy best to support their economy by dropping dollars right and left.
The boy spotted a trendy salon, and he said, “You know, I think that I want to cut my hair.”
Hubs and I both stared at him with our mouths shaped like softballs and our eyebrows sky-high. I quickly snapped out of my trance, and said, “Okay then!” We marched into the sassy little salon before any mind-changing could happen, and we learned that INDEED! They were capable of taking a ten-year-old walk-in client who wanted to be free of the Shaun Cassidy cut, if we gave them thirty minutes.
Half an hour later, the stylist had the boy look at some books filled with different hair styles, and he picked one out. He hopped into the twirly chair, and the lady started shaving hair off of his head.
And I had a moment of panic, as I thought, “Oh, no! Are we doing the right thing?! He’s been growing that hair for TWO AND A HALF YEARS!!”
But by then my panicky thoughts were entirely too late, because the boy resembled a rockhopper penguin.
He was busy rubbing the back of his head, as he kept exclaiming, “Wow! There’s nothing back there any more!”
And that’s the first time we’ve seen those ears in two-and-a-half years.