I'M MR. MICHELE!...
It doesn't matter where I go I always hear comments on my hair. Most of the time people feel the need to touch it--AGHHHH! Can I just admit that I don't want a strangers hands running through my hair every time I leave the house. Mom tries to be polite, but seriously...a simple compliment would do, right?
These days I prefer to wear my hair natural...mom isn't sold on that idea yet as this hair can be quite puffy in the morning. She still wants to wet and gel it. Some days I agree and others I put up a fight. I insist she is trying to give me "crazy chick hair" or "clown hair." Yes, these are my words. Through my tears I beg for "spiky hair." Mom of course promises that she would never try to make me look silly. She is doing the best she can. Then the conversation leads to the idea of a haircut. Dad chimes in and says no way! So, on this day I decided that I would be Mr. Michele. Everyone in the house was going to get a trim and I would decide what the end result would be. First up...dad! The hair drama continues, but for now I am content with the idea of it growing longer...I want long hair like the rock and roll guy with makeup and a long tongue. Mom says "EWWWWW...that is Kiss!" I am sure there are many great looks to come...just don't touch!