Pretty fly for a little guy

My two kids are a study in whether you can develop style or if you're just born with it. I fully believe you can learn style, that it can be acquired through observation or pop culture osmosis or maybe even a super persistent friend. But John is a walking example of That Guy. He was just born with an innate sense of cool and style all his own.

He can wear a baseball cap backward and make it look normal, not like an affectation in an attempt at cool. He cares more about the clothes laid out for him every day for school than Caroline does; some shirts are just never going to get worn because they violate his sense of first grade style. 

Several months ago, he began asking for gel to put in his hair. He likes to make it a little bit spiky on the top for school. I can only hope it's completely attributable to his sense of style and has absolutely, positively nothing to do with girls. At least not yet. 

Knowing all of this about my son, it wasn't surprising at all when I walked in the door from work this evening to find that he had sweet talked the woman who'd cut his hair today into using some "product," as I like to call it. 

I'm not quite prepared for hair product and designer labels. At least his style still includes wearing Lego Star Wars shirts to school.