Someone Alert NACCAS

Cripes.

I came home yesterday to a very goofy-looking Lumpyhead.

Let me remind you, I have a pretty rigorous standard for goofy.

Armrest cover on the head? Wearing a floppy cow? Dressed like a Viking? Not goofy.

Lumpyhead right now, with nothing on his head? Goofy.

Bump took Lumpyhead for his third haircut yesterday. By all accounts and as evidenced by the train wreck on my son’s head, it was a disaster.

Lumpyhead wouldn’t eat breakfast, so arrived at the salon cranky and hungry and proceeded to howl through the whole haircut.

Maybe cutting the hair of a screaming child is just an impossible task, but good lord, those two years at an accredited cosmetology school were wasted on the poor stylist Lumpyhead visited yesterday.

The bangs are way too short and look like they were lopped off by a drunken tree trimmer. The “layering” on the top of his head may have been achieved by a weed wacker, or perhaps a flowbee. The back is uneven.

I was pressing Bump to bring Lumpyhead back to the salon today and demand someone fix it. Bump thinks the haircut is too short to be repaired, and all we can do is wait for it to grow out.

If I can capture the horror in a photo, I’ll post it tonight.