Stop, Drop and Blog

I went to get a haircut today. Before I left, I told BigBrother where I was going.

“Okay, but don’t get ElastiGirl hair.”

Uh, noted.

Last year, I came home from a particularly nice salon experience. BigBrother was going through a phase of Nothing-But-The-Incredibles, a strange and brief departure from his first love of Toy Story. I walked in the door from that salon experience and he said, “Mommy! You have ElastiGirl hair!”

Then he laughed, so I’m not quite sure it was a compliment.

It’s kind of true though. The somewhere-around-chin-length bob is a flattering cut on me, whether I wear it curly (its natural state) or straight (a completely unnatural state that most curly-headed people try to achieve unless it’s mid-August). I admitted to FireDad after BigBrother’s comment that my hair did resemble that of ElastiGirl. It was a running joke for awhile.

Apparently BigBrother is over The Incredibles, despite occasionally sporting some Mr. Incredible underwear. And apparently I am not supposed to sport the hairstyle any longer. Yes, I realize I’m taking fashion advice from a four-and-a-half year old. But he knows his stuff better than I do. Maybe he reads She’s Still Got It when he’s supposed to be playing Zoodles. I don’t know. I mean, it’s not a secret I have no fashion sense. Even Sassymonkey is on my case about it. Which, by the way, I’m not trying skinny jeans. Can’t make me.

I had a lovely salon experience today. The general ambiance of my salon is one of happy chatter, some of which I participate in and some of which I quietly smile at as it bounces around the room. My stylist laughed at how much my hair had grown in two months and commented again on how thick it is. (It’s ridiculously thick.) She turned my hair from a crazy, frizzy, over-grown, no-shaped mess to a sleek, stylish new version of me without sweaty hair on my neck. She’s my new hero.

I got home from the salon and asked BigBrother what he thought.

“Well, it’s not ElastiGirl hair.”

“No, it’s not. Whose hair is it then?”

“Well, Mommy. It’s your hair, you silly head.”

That it is. Kind of a Reverse ElastiGirl… which sounds… kinky. I think I’ll be sticking with this style for awhile.