There's something special to a guy who grew up in the 80's when his son asks for the 1st time if we can make his hair spiky. I could have done better, but it was a last minute request as we were running out the door. JT has the straightest, flattest hair around, so he clearly needed some product in it. Which did not survive 2 crazy, active birthday parties, the latter of which involved dumping water on his head.
That paled in comparison to what happened to his hair at "Rumpus Day," one of the end of year celebrations for the kindergarteners last week. Four colors of hair chalk. Four! Is this a flashback, or a premonition of his teenage years?