Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Big E: No Cuts

I keep the boys' hair short.  They took not one, but two, horrible school pictures in the fall.  Even with retakes, no one bothered to run a comb through their hair.

I had had it.

I buzzed both of them and haven't looked back.  There is no hair brushing and their hair always looks good.  The only downside is the frequency I have to drag them to get their hair cut.  Luckily, my kids are super nerds, and the draw of the library right next door, is enough to motivate them.

It's been about a month and they are both due.  I asked Big E if he wanted to get his haircut.


I took a deep breath and quickly walked out of the room so I could panic.

I'm pretty sure Big E just asked me for Georgia Hair.  My child. Thick with Florida roots wants Georgia Hair.

What is this Georgia Hair, you may ask?


Some call it the Southern Swoop.  I call it Georgia Hair.  Mostly because I'd never seen anything like it until I moved to Atlanta in 1999.  Yes, you have the Coca-Cola Headquarters and CNN, but do you have barber shops here?

I have admittedly mocked this style.  There was none of this in Florida.  Mostly because it is too hot to wear a petticoat on your forehead.

And now my first born was expressing himself to me in a way that he has never shown any interest.  Do I agree to let him grow his hair out?  Do I shave it off in his sleep?

I'm still undecided.  My plan is to take them after school today. I'll be there cheering on the clippers with a fistful of PEZ.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Stockholm Syndrome

Little E's homework assignment this week included writing an opinion piece stating his opinion of a topic and the reasoning to support it.

Little E was having a little bit of writer's block, which I totally understand.

I suggested writing about why red is the greatest color ever (even though we all know that isn't true).

Big E, who was sitting next to Little E, suggested he write about how Big E was the greatest brother ever.

I shook my head no. Because even though this is an opinion piece, this statement is blatantly false.

Like all younger siblings, Little E loves his big brother, so he enthusiastically agreed to write his opinion piece about how awesome Big E. (MANY EYE ROLLS)

Little E is still mastering handwriting, so let me transcribe his opinion piece.

Big E is the best brother because:

1) He protects me.

Tonight in the bathtub, I witnessed Big E b*tch slap Little E across the face.  He then claimed it was an accident.  I guess Big E was protecting Little E from some sort of 1860s womanly hysteria.

2) He plays with me.

This includes Little E digging around for hours and hours in search of misplaced Lego pieces so Big E can finish his Lego City Swamp Boat.

3) He shares with me.

Um...the only thing Big E shares with you, my Sweet Little E, is your muscle-y legs and perfectly round buttocks.  As far as sharing toys, I've seen WWE matches tamer than the two of you deciding who gets the first roll in the Monopoly game.  Or the last Dunkin' Donuts Munchkin (not even the good flavor).

4) He helps me.

Taking help from the dangerously-close-to-eight-year-old who is "cool with velcro forever" because he's too lazy to learn to tie his shoes?  You don't need that kind of help, my friend.

I watched in fascination as Big E fed Little E all of these wonderful tag lines regarding himself and I tried to figure out if Little E genuinely believed them or if he was playing us all.

Why do your homework when you can have someone else basically write it for you?