When Eames was born, he had orange kinky hair; eventually, it fell out and the strawberry slowly leached out of it. Now, it's about as blonde as can be.
But, I've been watching to see if he gets stuck with my thin, lifeless, utterly, irrevocably straightest of straight hair or if he gets Josh's curls. Today, he's definitely looking curly. Of course, this particular hairstyle is largely due to the combination of sweaty nap hair and tangerine juice from the plate that he was rubbing all over his head. When we walked over to the neighbors today, Will said to Eames, "You look like your dad with your hair all crazy like that."
You know what would happen if I combined sweat, tangerine juice, and my hair? Nothing.
I see hope for him yet.