Back before this supposed respite began, we finally reached the limit and scheduled Adler's first haircut. His locks weren't too long in the front, but in the back they were not only lengthy, but constantly tangled and sticking out in all directions. It's not that I couldn't appreciate the humor in a baby mullet (aka "bullet"), but I couldn't handle being the one to hurt him whenever it was time to tame his tresses.
So off we went to Cost Cutters (where I discovered I'd forgotten my camera, so please forgive my poor quality cell phone pictures) to transform Adler from a canned beer drinking hillbilly into the handsome little future ivy-leaguer I knew he could be. I just hoped he'd behave.
I kept envisioning nightmare scenarios where he'd scream and fuss or simply be too frightened to handle the experience, or be too traumatized to get another haircut again. Ever. I imagined how he'd look after four or five years of no hair intervention, and felt the bullet becoming a permanent part of his identity.
I also feared him turning quickly and getting scalped by the buzzers and having to tell friends that we were experimenting with a new avant-garde style for our toddler. Maybe I'd dress him in a lot of vinyl and zippers.
But, to my surprise, he was as still as a statue. I didn't get any mid-cut photos because he was seated on my lap, but even without my moral support, Adler seemed unfazed. They shortened the back and cleaned up the front a bit, but left some of the length around the mid-section of his head until it was fully grown in and not likely to look so choppy with a shorter cut.
After it was done, Adler looked as though he'd aged a year. His curls might be gone, but he's made up for it with extra attitude and spunk. And I'm pretty sure that if he could talk, he'd say, "Momma! I'm bored..."
How grown up!
ReplyDeleteAs a hairdressing apprentice I always got the kiddy cuts, some of them were so hard but often, as you say, they were rather intrigued by it all.