For his entire life, all year of it, the baby has avoided a hair cut. His hair grew and curled and kinda mulleted, but he’s a baby so he gets a pass and all the blame for such a thing falls on me (not on my wife, she had no part in this). Tonight the wee one met the buzzer and lost his luscious locks.
He sat on a chair and tried to eat the power cable of the hair trimmer passing over his head. I do not believe he cared about the trimmer, the soft rattling of the old machine slowly lulled him to sleep, but by golly did he want to eat the power cable.
It was a shocking difference from his brother. The oldest kiddo likes one part of the haircut process; the end. Hates the whole concept. His hair does not curl when it is long though, so his straight hair mullet comes in fast and… Well, he looks like an early 90s hockey player if we don’t stay on top that stuff. Haircuts come often for him. One day he will understand this is all done in an effort to not have totally cring embarrassment style photos on hand. Although, that would be a pretty surprise to leave on a coffee table come dating.
Having the baby jee moving around in hope of finding a quick snack was oddly welcomed. Beats the older brother trembling in fear and saying “watch the ears”. He believed for a time that folding the ear lobe over was breaking it, and he did not want to visit the doctor. Ah, there we go, there are the embarrassing things I can use when he starts dating. I was worried nothing would be available.
The truly strange part of the first hair cut is how much it changed the little guy’s face. I held him after the haircut and thought he looked ready for a job interview. It was weird. He used to stare at me during dinner and it was cute. Today he stared and I readied for an adorable little audit.