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Bottom Lip Service

Somewhere in my parent’s house in an album with my name on it is a picture of me taken in 1978.  That I’m wearing a red dress with tiny Raggedly Ann and Andy characters on it is hardly signigicant.  It’s more that the captured scowl on my face was the picture my parents chose to buy. 

Which made no sense. 

Until I learned that there wasn’t an unscowling picture to choose from.  Nada. Zilch. Which, uh, sort of made me smile.  Only I have no idea why.

Well, here’s my son. 

That he’s needed a haircut for, say, the last month, is an understatement.  That he pulled out his bottom lip for the ocassion allowed me a glimpse at myself the way my parents must’ve seen me back in that Raggedy Ann dress.

And I know now why they kept the picture.

Here’s the first exchange.  The guy in the cape isn’t so sure he really needs his haircut .

Here’s the hair we won’t be coming home with.

Here’s my daughter who couldn’t have been more excited about a haircut unless it was her own.

Here’s also evidence that you can’t wear too much pink.  Or that you can.  One of those.

And here’s the bowl cut, which strangely goes well with those crinkled up eyebrows…

And that bottom lip.

Only now, we’re saying ‘goodbye’ to the bowl, as well as the feathers, and someone’s starting to perk up a bit.

Well, sort of.

Then again…not so much.

But a little more snipping on the side…

and, by golly, we’ve got a new little guy.

 One whose sister loves him.

And makes him laugh…

And who, despite her own mishap with the face paints last night, couldn’t be more proud of his new do.

And his returned-to-normal bottom lip.


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