Bed Head.

When I was five, I had long, blonde hair. My mom would tell me to go to the bathroom and brush it. It was always a rat's nest, and I'd go through a bottle of "No More Tangles" every month. Anyway, I'd go to the bathroom and brush the front and sides, but never the back. My mom would get so frustruated with me.

Her: Why didn't you brush your hair like I asked you?

Me: I did!

Her: No, the back of it is a mess.

Me: I know! I couldn't get the brush to go through it.

Her solution? She cut all my hair off. Well, actually, she took me to the BARBER shop up the street where my dad went, and had them cut it off. I think I was the first little girl who'd ever walked through the door of this place. Naturally, they gave me a chili bowl haircut. It was devastating. I made sure to wear a dress to school every day during the first week of first grade so that people would know I was a girl.

And now, this is what awaits me most every morning:

And another view:

Hey, at least she comes by it honestly...