even if i had the picture, i wouldn't post it

Last weekend, my family gathered together for my cousin's wedding. It was everything a family wedding is supposed be: slightly precarious, very beautiful, exhausting, light-hearted, memorable. We aren't a high drama family for the most part. We keep our mean-spirited derogatory comments to ourselves and we don't talk politics EVER (unless under the influence of red wine and then everything is free game). We do have a penchant, however, to pull out the embarrassing family photos.

Last weekend, I was the target of much family banter. Let us not beat around the bush: I had a mullet circa age 6. This was followed by the poof-ball circa age 7. Which was followed by a bowl cut circa ages 8-10 (three horrible years).

My mom says the mullet was a "pixie cut" and it was cute! She nearly swore that she didn't even know what a mullet was. She says that I wanted a perm, so the poof is my fault. And she says that Dorothy Hamil wore a bowl cut for ages and pulled if off wonderfully and that it was extremely practical (read: I hated letting her brush my hair).

The funniest part? My uncle had a mullet for a while, too. We were haircut buddies in the early nineties. We are both glad that is over.

Is it a fourth commandment violation to say, "Mom, I praise God you aren't in charge of my hair anymore!"? Because its true. Even if my hair is a regular moppy mess. At least its not a mullet.

1 comment:

Amy said...

there's safety in numbers. even if we were two states apart at least we were both experienced the dorothy hamil bowl cut. and it taught me what NOT to do with my hair ever again.