I have long since packed away the wig and now obsess over cute pixie cuts on Pinterest and growing it out. I try not to get too caught up in having long hair again. It's just going through its awkward teenage stage right now, where it doesn't keep its room clean or really know what it wants to do with its life. So I find a little product and my trapper hat usually produce a hipster-worthy style for already confused hair.
On the downside, Merrick still considers me bald. After his holiday party at school, we had the following conversation:
"Mom, I bet all the kids in my class were surprised when they saw you."
"Because you are bald."
"I'm not bald. I have hair. It's short, but it's hair."
"No, you're bald."
"No, daddy is bald."
"I know, but so are you."
"No, mommy has short hair."
"No, you're bald, too."
And as is usually the case with Merrick, the argument will never end unless you pull rank and shut it down. Which I did. As always. Because my relationship with Merrick is one big argument, in accordance with our identical temperaments.
|That's turning in to a royal hot mess right there.|