The Kindest Cut

My skills as a hairdresser were sorely tested this morning. I don't know if you have ever tried to cut an 11 month old's hair, but its not easy. Not easy at all. Even with Daddy holding him straitjacket-style in front of a rousing episode of The Wiggles (fairy dance, look it up), Max wasn't that keen on the comb and clippers around his face. (I wasn't keen on having to cut his sweet, soft, wispy little baby locks. There may have been a lump in my throat.) But it was necessary. His bangs had grown past his eyelashes and he kept scratching the backs of his ears because the hair was tickling them. So off it went. Blending was a challenge. I didn't want to take off any more than absolutely necessary so we ended up with sort of a mullet in the back. With all those obstacles, it turned out okay. Mostly he looks so grown-up.


There's still a lump in my throat.