My 17 year old son decided last spring that blondes have more fun and made plans to dye his hair. I've always thought he was a handsome kid...yeah I know, I'm biased...but he really is. He's lucky enough to have my husband's coloring. Dark hair, dark brown eyes, skin that tans a golden brown with minimal sun exposure.
Me: Son, your hair color suits you perfectly. It matches your skin and your eyes. I love you just the way you are.
Son: unintelligible one syllable response.
I thought the matter was settled. My powerful skills of persuasion had rendered him speechless. I have these delusional moments. I'm familiar with the unintelligible response. I know it's not acquiescence. It's "you don't agree with me, so I'm going to ignore your opinion and do what I want." I know this. Sigh. Two nights later, he called me from a friend's house.
Son: I'm coloring my hair.
Son: Friend and I are doing it together. His older brother is helping. We got the color from WalMart. It stings a little, but it's gonna be great.
He spent the night at his friend's house, knowing I needed time to process this revelation. He came home the next afternoon with yellow hair. Not blonde...yellow...banana yellow. He could have been the poster child for "Hair color gone wrong."
Me: You look ridiculous! (More mother of the year material.)
Son: Really? I think it looks good.
He did too. I was fully prepared to call my hair stylist. She's a friend, and she might have done emergency hair doctoring on a Sunday if I'd begged. Son didn't even ask. He went to school on Monday with his yellow head held high. The reviews were mixed, but the cute girl who told him he looked great with blonde hair pretty much sealed the deal.
So this all happened a couple of months ago. I got over it pretty quickly. I'm a public school teacher, and I've seen how far some kids are willing to go to assert their independence. It's just hair. Bruce struggled more with it than I did, but he's come to grips as well. So why blog now?
I wouldn't trade my boys for anything, but sometimes I'm wistful when my friends shop or get their nails done with their daughters. Those kind of bonding moments just don't happen with sons. Today proved that anything is possible. I shared an experience with my son I've always envied my friends with daughters. We got our hair done together.
This is actually the second time he's seen my hair stylist. When his hair grew out and became two-toned, we had to do something. But today, we both had our hair done. We gossiped and talked smack about the videos playing on VH1 in the background. We compared notes on the movies we had seen this summer. Son told us all about the new roller coaster at King's Island. He spoke in complete sentences, using intelligible words! To be fair, Sheri and I did most of the talking, but son laughed a lot, and a good time was had by all.
I'm now officially a fan of son's new hair color. Honestly, I have no room to talk. I've been coloring my hair so long, I'm not sure what its true color is anymore. But after today's salon outing, I'm convinced that blondes really do have more fun.