Another month gone. Jeez!
Noodles needs a haircut. Badly. It’s gone from (aspirations towards) cool mini surfer dude to nothing short of unkempt, Cousin Itt in the making. How he doesn’t just walk into things is beyond me.
But I still don’t think I can inflict the whirling dervish of him in Teeny-Sod-has-a-Tantrum mode on even the most professional of professionals. Besides, you know, nits! (If anyone knows how to get the eggs out of hair so very very fine, short of shaving it all off, please let me know. Even the most expensive of combs don’t come close.)
So, Noodles badly needs a haircut. But what he doesn’t need is a BAD haircut. And every time I think of tackling just his fringe I think of this:
All I can think is what did my mum DO to me?! Had it seemed like a good idea at the time?!
Can I really responsible for inflicting similar on Noodles? Would he ever forgive me? Is sight actually necessary, never mind preferable to people pointing and laughing?
I feel the money I save on barber bills will have to be invested for future therapist payments.
All I can say, Noodles, is that even in advance I’m really really sorry.