He’s Not The Daughter I Always Wanted, He’s My Long-Haired Son.

I have two boys who are all boy. Fart-ripping, dirt-playing, dead bug collecting, sports-watching, Nerf gun-toting boys. Yet I’ve been accused of causing gender confusion in my younger, long-haired son. The son who loves, loves, loves the ladies, dreams of getting married (to a woman), having kids (with his wife) and of being a great dad (to his biological children, that he has with his bride). Why? Because he has long hair.

Why does he have long hair? Because, as he says, “It’s my style. It makes me look passionate.” Kid you not. He hasn’t always had long hair. He had a closed cropped, classic little boy haircut through the end of kindergarten. At some point, maybe we missed a few haircuts due to summer and his hair started to grow and flow, in gorgeous, impossible to replicate in the salon, highlighted blonde waves.He started to get a lot of positive feedback on his hair. People stopped us on the street to compliment him, women wanted to take pictures to show their colorist, and everyone from friends to teachers to camp counselors complimented him. He, the kid who’ll throw himself down stairs if he thinks someone is watching and will laugh, reveled in his newfound attention-getting glory. Even when it got so long it required the use of conditioner, and then detangling spray, he said it was totally “worth it.”