Okay, so I guess I should elaborate on the Dreadlock Disaster. My cryptic post yesterday was all my could muster in the midst of my grief. Yeah, that's right, grief. Stop rolling your eyes. I'm not being overdramatic. I would never do that.
So step one was that I tried to convince Jafta that we would just cut his dreadlocks shorter. That seemed like a win-win to me. I gave them a good trim, but I didn't have a clue what I was doing. The dreadlocks started getting puffy at the tip where I cut them. They were uneven and crazy looking. Mark said he looked like Kid from Kid-N-Play. I hated it, and Jafta wasn't happy either.
So all day long he was walking around, feeling his hair, and whining, "oh no! I still have dreadlocks!" Like he discovered this for the first time every few minutes. (He MIGHT be a smidge overdramatic too).
I finally relented and we made an appointment at the barber. They came off. Every last one of them. Jafta is elated, and pointing out his buzzcut to everyone he sees. Mommy is sad.
So all day long he was walking around, feeling his hair, and whining, "oh no! I still have dreadlocks!" Like he discovered this for the first time every few minutes. (He MIGHT be a smidge overdramatic too).
I finally relented and we made an appointment at the barber. They came off. Every last one of them. Jafta is elated, and pointing out his buzzcut to everyone he sees. Mommy is sad.
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