BHD (bad hair day)

As an adult there are many times I've questioned if leaving the house with a bag on my head would be acceptable.  I was blessed or cursed (at 32 it's still undecided) with rather large hair, to accompany my rather large arse and rather large boobs! (second two came after children)

Unfortunately for my boy, he seems to have inherited the massive hair gene. His dad also has a bit of a white 'fro when it grows too long. The poor kid never stood a chance!

As a baby, up until he was 2 and a half, Olly had the most gorgeous golden ringlets. Often he was mistaken for a girl due to his lustres locks. It wasn't until I surprised the hubs with a trip to Dubai for his 30th that we cut his hair in to a "proper" boys "short back and sides". Before this he looked like a GAP advert kid or surfer dude. The hubs told me it was cruel taking him to such a hot climate with hair that add to the increase in his own body temperature. So off came the curls and along came the floods of tears from one totally emosh momma.

After he had his curls cut off, his hair became increasingly difficult to control. He can go to bed with a tamed, flat mop and wake up like he's been wrestling with crocodiles. Every day is a battle to flatten it down with a water sprayer and comb. Then, if time, a blast from the hair dryer followed by some styling wax.

Each morning we do it before school, sometimes it point blank, does not want to conform. On these days I am grateful for cold mornings and woolly hats that help with the flattening process!

There are the occasional days where we don't have time to really style his hair and sods law one of those days would happen to be (unknown to me) the day of school photos.  It was quite mild on said morning, so a hat in the car was a big NO from the bear. He sat in his booster seat looking out the window, rubbing his head side to side on the head rest.

By the time we arrived at school, he stepped out of the car and his hair was WILD at the back, like a nest and we had nothing to tame it.  As we walked up to the school gates I am trying to flatten it at the back. We arrive at the picket fence and as he crosses the gate (where parents are forbidden) I hear one of the other parents say to their child "make sure you smile nicely"

I have a deep sinking, sicky feeling in my tummy. Nooooooo. Not school photos please!

Yep, school photos. Missed that memo didn't I? I look at his hair and try to get him to come back to me but he's more interested in the class room and getting up to no good!  Don't worry says his TA, I'll make sure he looks ok!

I remember my mum telling me a story about my oldest sister going to school with bunches for her first school photo and she took them out just before the pictures were taken cause she wanted her hair down. Mum said the pictures were awful!

I've pretty much resided to the fact his first school photo will not be one from the mantle piece, more so his journey through life box of memories. I'm fairly confident we'll be presented with a picture of our little scrummy bum looking like he's been electrocuted!