Most pictures of Wes seem to indicate that his hair sort of has a mind of its own. It kind of does its own thing. It doesn't really like to follow rules or obey the basic laws of gravity. Its kind of a rebel like that. Honestly, I derive more joy from Wes's hair than is probably normal, but lets face it, its just fun to see what the heck his hair is doing on any given day. Talk about the circle of life, its like my hair legacy is complete. My children have hit the genetic jackpot so far on traits inherited from Mom. Crazy hair? Check. Inability to walk a straight line? Check, check.
Fast forward to this morning when I realized Wes's hair was looking decidedly like hair. It was doing a normal hair thing and just sitting on top of his head. It wasn't pulling an Alfalfa, wafting in the breeze, or swooping. I knew there would be a day when Wes's plumage would fall. What was once part partridge, part peacock, was now just minimal blue jay.
I decided to post today to pay tribute to the swoop that has defined my sweet baby's head for the last 5 months but in some sort of weird and eerie twist the swoop has revived itself-while writing this post. Its as if it can hear my inner most thoughts, or read my blog, or maybe, just maybe, you just can't hold this kids hair down.
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