About a month ago, my son Charlie (to distinguish him from all my other sons) decided he wanted to shave his head.
The reason? An upcoming volleyball tournament of course. (Why I missed that connection is beyond me.)
"Who else is doing it?" I asked.
He looked puzzled at my question. "Nobody I know of," he said. "Just me."
I asked again today, minutes before our jaunt to the barbershop.
"Because I'm me," he said. "Because I'm a little crazy. Because I'm the unofficial team cheerleader."
These are all true. He is very much his own person. Plus, as the youngest player on the varsity team, he doesn't always get to play. So he screams and yells and whoops during the game, usually coming home hoarse and happily wiped out.
I was fine with his decision. Pretty tickled, actually. So off we went to Huey's, where Charlie has had his hair cut since he was 10 months old.
As we sat and waited our turn, we couldn't stop smiling. When Huey's son called Charlie to the chair, I followed with my video camera (post to follow...soon!) We laughed like idiots as his beautiful dark brown hair fell to the floor.
And we agreed that yes, this was indeed a good idea.
I'm a writer who loves to run and who is basically optimistic, albeit a bit hard on myself.
My son (that lovable kid here) may have spent too much of his summer vacation neither reading books not cleaning out his car, but he does have a great sense of humor. In other words, he usually thinks I'm funny.