It's amazing the language skills Gunny is acquiring each day. He is really seeming to grasp the concept of many different words and he impresses me with his strong sense of knowing just what to say and when to say it. He has especially taken a strong liking to discovering new words when discussing my hair. I recently committed a major Gunny faux pas in that I did a massive change in my hair color without his prior permission. I went from a light brown with blonde highlights to a dark brown with red highlights. I needed a change in my life and this seemed to be the cheapest and most drastic form I could deal with.

From the original day at the salon to my bed hair today, his favorite word to describe my new do has been:

Ugalee

When he originally saw me at the salon on the big day, he refused to acknowledge me as his mother, to this morning when I woke up causing him to frown in disgust; his word choice has not wavered. Gunny hates my hair and lets me know on a daily basis.

Momma, yowr hair wooks UGALEE. I don't yike it oneeeee bit.

While I'm so proud of his use of words and sentence structure, I wish he'd just get over it. Sure, my feelings are hurt just a tad bad but then again, I realize I should not be taking my fashion advice from a short little dude who normally has his lunch smeared across his face and clothes. The little dude who wears a cat perch for a hat and his brother's dirty underwear for a mask. Yeah, he doesn't have a pot to piddle in when it comes to high fashion.

Does he not remember this:

Or how 'bout this:

And a Momma never forgets this fashion disaster:

So no, I don't feel too self-conscious when my little monstah chooses to call my hair "ugalee". Because I still remember this day. When he thought he thought he looked BOOTIFUL:

I love ya buddy, but get over it. I may just do purple next time to really freak you out. You ain't seen ugalee yet.