Saturday was a bittersweet day for Mockbadad and Mockbamom. Our little son had his first haircut. I don't know why it was hard. Maybe it is because you feel responsible for every bruise, every cut - literally every little curly blond hair on their heads. We had a bit of a sick feeling in our guts when we took him.As always, he took it all in stride. No tears, no fighting, no screaming - he just sat there and let it happen. Well, to be entirely accurate, he was identifying each and every character on the "Cars" barber drape they put on him.
"Daddy look! There's Nitenin' Aqueen ("Lightnin' McQueen")! There's Mater!" The lady doing the cutting - she was superb, incidentally - had to laugh. We saved every single hair, of course. I bet she's never had a customer she didn't have to clean up after.
He looked great afterwards. And after the obligatory Fy-Twuck hunt, we went to celebrate at our favorite Mexican restaurant, Don Pepe. He picked at his enchilada and rice. He devoured the fried ice cream.
1 comment:
His haircut is rather dashing! How nice that he was so cooperative during the whole thing.
We haven't taken our daughter for a "real" haircut yet...she's just had a couple of trims from mom (otherwise she'd have had the dreaded mullet-do).
And yeah, I saved every single strand from the first cut. I have yet to decide if that is a bit gross or if it's sweet. (Hair clippings kind of freak me out.)
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