Hair today, still there tomorrow

I'm not ready to cut the baby's hair.  He has these golden curls that stick out kind of crazy, and it suits him, and I love it.  I snug into his hair, and the smell is Heaven, and the silky curls are too sweet.  I have tried to go get it cut, and I have talked about it (even with an actual hairstylist), but I get too anxious to follow through.  It's not perfectly even, it's Einstein-esque as it just sticks out wherever it wants to, and it's long.  It matches his quirky personality so well, but it leads to one big misunderstanding... everyone thinks he's a girl. 

I'm not at all exaggerating.  He has 2 blue coats, and I dress him almost never in a dress.  By almost never, of course, I mean always jeans or sweatpants and some type of macho shirt like baby dinosaurs or guitars or something that is most likely blue.  Not that I mind him not looking ultra-boy, but I find it's very hard to find great boys' clothes, so I enjoy the hunt.  I feel a sense of victory when I find the perfect choo-choo train shirt that isn't too hokey.  It's okay if you don't understand what I'm talking about, I'm picky beyond what most normal humans consider to be necessary.  Anyway, I go to great lengths to pick out cute, cool-dude clothes. 

Still, with everything around him screaming "I'm a boy!", nearly every single person who speaks to me or to him refers to him as a girl.  I even had a little boy say "Look, Mom!  He smiled at me!" and the mother corrected her son and said "Oh, that is a little girl!"  Yikes.  Mom-zero, son-winner winner chicken dinner.  Usually I just smile, then avoid pronouns.  Sometimes I just drop "he" "him" and "his" in, as if I didn't hear them and nothing is amiss.  Once in awhile, I give the "Oh I'm so sorry I'm about to tell you that you screwed up, and I know you'll feel a little embarrassed, and since your intentions were good I hate to do it... BUT..." look and say "Awe, well, actually, he's a boy.  I know, it's the hair.  I just can't cut it!", and then give the "I know, I'm a crazy lady." look. 

I just can't do it.  I can't cut his hair.  I haven't even cut my hair in a loooooong time.  I'm hoarding our hair, apparently.  It does cause me great anxiety to think about cutting it.  I never had that with my other son, but then again, he had very thick, fast growing, straight hair, so he looks GREAT with spiked hair... just like it was when he was born. 

For now, I think I'll just hang a sign on his stroller that says "I'm a boy."  Then I can give noogies to whomever calls him a girl.  It will be interesting to see how many people still do it!  I bet the answer will not be "zero".