The Six Year Old Boy

For the last few days, my new hair cut has reminded me of something. Something familiar, but I hadn’t quite been able to put my finger on the cause of this recognition. And then, this morning, as I was trying to motivate myself to function, it came to me. It was in my room the whole time… My new hair cut reminds me of me, aged six, when Mamma Jones chose to have her two daughters looking like sons. See?

Not much has changed to be sure.