This post seems like the the epitome of parental self-indulgence, as it is about my daughter's hair. I am not short on subject matter to blog about, much as this topic would lead you to believe. I know some of your children are slave to the mullet, much as mine is, or was, depending on how you define mulletness.
The Dude recently decreed that the mullet is defined by a clear curl at the tip of the offending party in the back, a matter which is clear evidence that he is not American. That is not to say that the British are not au fait with the mullet, I can attest having resided here for over six years that the mullet is sported perhaps a bit too often. I do, however, think they have yet to refine the art of the mullet quite to the standard that we expect of our bemulleted Americans.
I am pleased to say that the mullet in our household is in decline. I'm not confident that the resulting formation - at times Jereth the Goblin King, at others the beginnings of a very fine-haired Anton Chigurh, is much of an improvement. I'm a film fan, so I'm pleased that P is keen to replicate the look from movies enjoyed by her mother, but jesus, could she not sprout a cool hairstyle for once? It all started with Joe Dirt, and progression has been stagnant at best.
Can you understand my concern? What hair formation should we fear will descend next?
Or, with any luck...
Thankfully, we are at a point that the mullet can at least be a bit tamed and pulled into ponytails/pigtails, or as they say here, "bunches". Praise the lord above, we can make cute hair. Finally.
Please don't mention the cheap ass My Little Pony top and socks with Tevas. We kind of let her dress herself on weekends since she's in her uniform all week, and this is what she chose. I think we all know it's 50 kinds of awesome.