Bowl Cuts: A Photo Short Story

Tomorrow is graduation day for my high school seniors. First and foremost, I must congratulate my twelfth grade lovelies. You made it! Second, I must share with you, dear readers, what I discovered at Betty's as I searched for my hood. To clear things up, I wasn't looking for a neighborhood that makes you nervous at my mother's. A hood is that very annoying Kentucky Derby garland-esque thing that they make you wear at your college graduation. Most folks never have to don it again; however, lucky educators like myself get to wear their hoods two times a year for convocation in September and graduation in June.

Anyway, as I was looking around the house for my hood (which I still haven't located), I came across the tri-fold photo board Betty and I made for my sweet sixteen. It was such a cute idea, we collected different pictures of me and my family and friends from over the years and made a poster that all the guests could sign. As I reminisced over this photo board, I realized, with horror, that a majority of the photos on this poster are of me...with a bowl cut. Not just pictures from when I was two or three, this atrocious haircut spans into at least ages seven or eight. Some of the pictures are just too embarrassing to share, so I made this photo story a short one. Check it out:

I was not the only child in the M family to whom's hair Betty trimmed into this shape. Brant and Brian had matching ones, since they were closer in age. I guess when the surprise came along (me!), my mom didn't feel like reinventing the wheel with a new haircut. She knew a good thing when she saw it and I was forced to get the bowl cut, too. If you ask Betty why I had to endure this crown of embarassment, she will give you a few reasons:

"You have four cowlicks. Anything else would've looked ridiculous." Compared to...
"It was a popular style." Yeah, for boys.
"All the moms asked me where I got your haircut. I cut it myself, thank you very much. You looked like a little Dorothy Hamill."

Thanks, Mom.

Again, congratulations Seniors. I wonder what fashion faux pauxs their parents forced them into as wee ones? I'll check their correctly-spelled blog posts in a couple of years to find out. What about you, dear readers? Care to share any stories of awful haircuts or outfits you were involuntarily made to wear as a little kid?

-L