Fast forward three months and we had yet to get Marcus' hair trimmed. We talked about getting him in to get a hair cut 1,453,789,362 times. However, following through with that thought never happened... Until Marcus and I got back to Iowa.
Almost every single person we have bumped into, talked to, or basically glanced at, has commented on Marcus' hair. I've lost count of all the comments on the length of his hair, and questions on when we plan to have it cut again. Apparently the surfer look isn't as cool in Iowa.
Finally I buckled and made an appointment with the same stylist, Lori, who kept me looking so fresh and so clean when I was growing up.
Even though I brought Grandma along, and we were well prepared with treats, drinks, and toys, the experience went about how I imagined it would...
And please note he's not wearing any pants. We keep it classy. (Actually, we'd just finished swimming and I totally forgot to pack shorts, so the kid went without. Whoops. Good thing no one cares in my home town.)
|I owe a million thanks to Lori. She did an awesome job with a not so awesome client.|