Extreme Makeover, Michael Edition

Having a child who looks like a movie star can be a good thing. But not when it is this guy:




I suppose it is a childhood rite of passage: having a bad haircut. But my cute little man now has a most unfortunate one:



I'm reminded of my own bad-hair childhood days. Of which there were many.


I took Michael to get his first haircut yesterday. I had trimmed up the front myself a few times, but the back was starting to look frighteningly like a mullet, so I thought it time to call in the professionals.

Before



Many children boutiques here do hair too, so I took him to the chic boutique on our high street.

He was most definitely not a fan. The phrase "screaming bloody murder" would be appropriate, or as Kate would say, "screaming his face off". I don't have any pictures of his fit, because I was busy trying to calm him down. This is right before the tears started:


Perhaps it was because he was screaming and wriggling, but the hair cut is not stellar. She did what I asked, but it doesn't quite look like I expected.





Oh well. It is only hair, and I find it fruitless to fret much about hair that will grow out. But he is going to have to endure a few weeks of looking like a total dork.