Now it is gone, he's got a 6 inch mohawk, which was just white briefly (bleached), and then became a lovely shade of blurple. For those who don't know that color, allow me to elaborate. Blurple is that fine line between blue and purple. I suppose some people might call it indigo, but I found the word blurple when I was buying one of my many nostril screws, and I love it. :)
So yeah. Blurple mohawk. Don't know when we're going to have time to actually put it UP, but it looks pretty good down as well. And he can turn the front into a devilock. What more could a boy want? :)
Oddly enough, though, there are no brilliant words of wisdom related to the hair cutting or bleaching or dyeing, and I didn't catch any good lines on "Supernatural" last night either. So instead of a quote, here's a picture.
Picture is worth a thousand words and all that good stuff. But this one really is. The whole time I was in Kansas City, Peter (my nephew) talked about wanting to jump into the leaves when his dad raked them all up. I love the sheer glee on his face, on finally getting to do just what he wanted. He's on my desktop at work at the moment, which is a great thing to get to look at on a gray and dreary day. The leaves here are far too wet for jumping in. :)
