He Needs Dreadlocks

Simon bought seven-year-old Nathan a Real Salt Lake team jersey yesterday. I came home from evening class to find Nate asleep with it clutched in his little fist. As soon as he woke up this morning, he looked at me conspiratorially and said, "I got something really special yesterday." "Oh, yeah? What?" "I'm not going to show you, yet. Go wait for me in the kitchen." He came out wearing the jersey, so I called him Kyle Beckerman (Real Salt Lake's team captain). His ears turned pink.

Here's the real Kyle Beckerman.

As you can see, Nathan has a way to go. But he now has the shirt. That's a start. He is thinking that the hair would be the sensible next step. He is a bit shaggy at the moment; and he likes to mess it up in the privacy of his room, hoping it will form dreadlocks, a la Beckerman. If only we weren't going to Wisconsin to visit Grandma and Grandpa in a couple of days. Grandma isn't a big fan of dreads.

Sara just had to burst his bubble tonight. "You better start brushing your hair again, you know." "What for?" "If your hair looks like that when we get to Wisconsin, Grandma is going to...DEAL with it." "Deal with it?" "She's gonna take you to the Style-Mar. You'll get a lady hair-cut and she'll make you sit in one of those chairs that puts the plastic container over your head."