Hannah got her first haircut this week. She was developing what I fondly refer to as a baby mullet. Mike is ever so sentimental about haircuts, and I have to tell you, I just don't understand. It's hair. It looks bad. It must be cut.
I'd been threatening a Hannah haircut for some time, but had neglected my duties as a mother, and she developed the B-mullet.
I don't have a better picture, but she was starting to look like an eighties hearthrob. Adorable still, but lacking in style. So I lopped off the mullet on Thursday. When Mike came home he said, "You cut her hair, didn't you?"
"Yes, she had a mullet."
"Why? She's too little for a haircut. Do you have some sort of mullet-phobia?"
Yes. I have mullet-phobia. There you go. I think it stems from a couple of bad haircuts I got when I was going for the "Meg Ryan" look. Now you know how to torture me--just threaten a mullet.
Here is another bad picture of her new haircut. You can't tell, but she no longer has a b-mullet. For more mullet fun, join the Mulletia.