the first real haircut

When you were about twelve months old, I snuck up behind you with a pair of scissors and snipped off what was starting to look like, to mama's chagrin, a mullet. But that didn't really count as a haircut, right? It was too fast and didn't really change your look much anyhow.

But this one did! It started with some long bangs. Mama had to keep pushing them out of your eyes, for they were getting in the way all the time. You'd blink a strange blink and shake your head, wondering what was tickling your face. So mama took up another pair of scissors, and chopped your bangs. The result was ... hm. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, but you looked a little girly. Which I was okay with, so I left it. I wasn't ready to cut off those baby curls quite yet.

But then, while you were eating your snack this afternoon, I just decided. Again, those scissors came out. And your side curls, snip snip!, came off. And I couldn't resist taking about twenty photos. You look like such a big boy ... but you're still mama's baby.