Posted in Home Life
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[Maybe I should make a new Category for this entry: Performance Art.]
Today, if you will look in your dictionary under "dichotomy: division into two usually contradictory parts," you will find a picture of My Son, aged 11.
Darling boy was asked if he wanted to help his friend paint his bedroom. Eventually the bedroom will be red, so the primer was quite a lovely Pink.
During this time of male-bonding, it was discovered that his brushy-hairstyle made a very unique faux-finish on the wall. But, being 107 lbs., I doubt if it will catch on--"Now at your Home Depot--tutorial on using your son as a paint-roller--demo Saturday at 10:00 am and 2:00pm." The boys ended up just roller-painting their entire heads.
Now, twenty years ago, with my older sons, this would have been enough to come running home--Mom, what do I do now? But, of course, we have all seen pink hair in the marketplace: they call it "tips": "Mom, can't I Tip my hair?" I thought he was pretty cute, he kinda looked like Taylor Hicks from American Idol. He decided he wanted to keep it until after church that night, to freak out his friends. (I was just hoping it was Latex primer..)
Then we got The Call: Son needs to be in his full uniform tonight for Royal Rangers. He has been chosen one of five Outpost Rangers of the Year, and will receive a medal.
Proud, proud Mom-moment: he decided himself that he needed to get rid of the pink hair, due to the Role Model status of the award he was to be given.
He took a shower, and washed his hair three times, which removed about half of the offending pink matter. I took a stab at scrubbing his hair a couple of times, too. Finally, we decided that maybe we should just pull out the clippers and be done with it. Unfortunately, there was just too much hair, in bright pink rubber/plastic bunches, for the clippers to go through.
FINALLY, we remembered that we could Comb it Out. First, the wide-toothed end, then the fine. (ooh, bad memories of our one Lice Experience...) I will say, his scalp is now healthy. The circulation is at peak performance! He put on his uniform, and looked pretty good: now it just looked like he had stood too near a pink cotton candy machine and had been "dusted." We talked about Laughing At Yourself, in preparation for meeting the guys that evening. He brought home a shiny medal, and is now in the running for District Ranger of the Year.
This morning, he asked me (due to his "harrowing experience" of the afternoon before) to "please make me an omelet." So I took him to the kitchen and showed him how to make his Own omelet. It is a beautiful thing... Ahh, Performance Art once again....or maybe, Edible Art? |
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