Bumblebee came back from the weekend with his dad absolutely buggered. Because the Albatross lives waaaay out of Canberra, they didn't get back to his place until about 1am after his mammoth Wakakirri effort. And, of course, kids don't stop unless they're made to, so he used up every. skerrick. of. energy. over the weekend.
So even though he was raring for a makeover, he just couldn't raise a smile all through the process. Well, at least not in front of the camera.
Before. Tired with hat-hair, after school. I actually quite like this photo, if only for the spots of yellow throughout.
During. At this point of the haircut, my (wonderful) hairdresser turned the chair around and said 'OMG, you have to see this!'. The music in the salon was 80s New Romantic hits. My heart thumped. But both he and I weren't quite ready for this. He's only 11 and a half. I can see the floppy fringe happening in about three years from now, when he stops thinking either of his parents are interesting and needs something to hide behind as he sulks.
After. The seriousness of this look is totally deceptive. From the moment he was shown his hair in the rear-view mirror, up to and including now, it's like he was given a guarana injection. He's been running, leaping, bursting into rooms and out of bed, grinning form ear to ear. He walks around the house, shaking his head wildly, enjoying the sensation of... nothing. I envy him. I was like that a few years ago, and it doesn't last long.
Woot! This is more like it, on his way out to pretend he's Dr Who. He went to the hairdresser armed with photos like this:
I think she did a grand job. He's got the duds: pin-striped trousers, suit jacket, makeshift sonic screwdriver. He's on the lookout for some glasses next time we hit an op shop. Sigh.
I have to admit, seeing him with the short hair made him seem so much older than he seemed before. As I confessed to Thirdcat this morning, when he and the hairdresser were looking the other way, I picked up some of the soft long locks of hair on the floor. They're in a plastic bag in my bag. Don't know what I'll do with them, but I'm sure they'll be useful for something, if only a weep!
PS: response to Harry's comment within: