I was looking through some old pictures today that were taken when I was very young. Now, most girls mother's recognize that their job is to protect their young, innocent daughters from the cruelty of this world. My mother thrust me to the lions. Some of the oldest pictures of me show a little girl with her hair pulled tight to the top of her head, tied off with a hair tie, and then splayed out in all directions to make her look like a quail. As I got older, my father grew my hair out some. My mother wanted to cut it, but my dad wouldn't let her take any off the back. So she did what any reasonable (not) mother would do. She gave me a mullet. Yeah, I'm not joking. A mullet. Then they let it grow out some, and I had the worst pigtails you could ever imagine. Eventually, she cut it all off into a short, and what could have been cute, bob. Except for the fact that my father dressed me like a boy. The boys clothing, added to the short hair, made me look like the son he always wanted.
Some day, I will be sitting in a psychiatrists office, and we will come to the conclusion that the reason I am so messed up is that my parents gave me horrible haircuts when I was young.