My son got a haircut today. It seemed like the right thing to do. He was beginning to look like someone had accidentally dumped a bucket of squiggly Ramen Noodles on his head. Now it’s like someone dumped a bucket of slightly shorter Ramen noodles on his head.

He seems okay with how things turned out though. He apparently fell asleep in the chair while the lady was working on it. And as soon as he got home he ran up to me and pointed both hands at his head, “Look Dad. I took a shortcut today!”

I picked him up and carried him into the house, “It’s nice. I like it.” I set him down in the living room, “Also, you’re not using those words correctly, but that’s okay.”

He nodded and then grinned in surprise. “Hey, Dad! It feels like my head is frozen!”

“Oh yeah? You mean it feels cold because your hair is gone?”

“No!” he shook his head from side to side a few times. “Because when I do this-” he jerked it up and down, “nothing moves.” He pointed again with both of his hands. “See! It not moving!” He laughed. “It used to move all the time, and now it’s just…” He stood still like a statue. “Cool…”

“Uh yeah… cool.”

Then he walked away, still whipping his head in circles as he struggled to walk in a straight line. I followed him, grabbed him by the shoulders and redirected him towards the stairs. “Be careful walking up the steps with your new hair,” I warned him. “It can be tricky to get used to.”