Highlights...

My boys always have super short hair.  Not because it's the style.  But because they were blessed with fuzz.  The kind of hair where every snip shows.  And if it's at the in-between phase it just sticks up everywhere.  Once it's a certain length it's okay longer.  If they comb it.  Which they don't.  Ethan started a boycott at the end of the school year when I told them we were going to get haircuts.  He decided he wanted to grow his out.  I kindly reminded him of the mushroom looking bowl cut his father and I graced him with when he was two.  He laughed.  (He obviously doesn't remember).  We discussed how much of an orphan he'll look like without combing the long locks.  He didn't care.  I relented.  He is eleven, right?  I lasted three weeks before I felt myself cringing every morning when he came up the stairs.  Orphan.  That's all I saw.  So.  I decided to take him to a hairstylist as opposed to the barber he'd been using.  Just to clean him up.  Not to cut it.  Shawn suggested highlights.  I was surprised at my husbands suggestion.  (But then again Shawn was the one with a perm in high school.) 
This is after the trim, but before the highlights.

During the highlight adventure:

And after:

This picture doesn't show much of a difference.  And I suppose there isn't a huge difference between the before and after.  However.  The highlights allow a bit of a messy-do without the orphan appearance.  As I'm typing this I'm realizing I'm putting waaaaaaay too much thought into my child's hair.  Then again I'm the Mom.  I also put a lot of  care into his showering and teeth brushing.  Two other things he just doesn't care about either.  One day when his interest in girls peaks he might thank me.  Maybe.