Finn inherited his hair from me - it's about the only thing he got from me, except probably my voracious appetite and love of books. It's four or five different shades of blond right now, bleached on the top to an almost white from hours spent playing outside this summer. It's very fine hair and prone to sweet, soft curls in the back. I can't bring myself to even trim it because I'm afraid that I will loose those curls.
When he wakes up in the morning, the little curls that formed after his bedtime bath have somehow morphed into these wild horns of hair on his head that stick up in random and weird ways. It looses all sense of sweetness and takes on a whole new savage aspect. We've taken to gauging how much daily mischief he's going to get into by how wild his hair is in the morning. It's a pretty exact science.
We call it his Mischief Antenna.
The higher the antenna, the more mischief he will get into.
I think we're in for a day full of mischief today...
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