“Mommy’s so sorry about your hair and I promise to never do it again.”
These are the words I whispered in my sweet baby boy’s ear as I lifted him out of his crib this morning. He looked at me with his big brown eyes and smiled and said,
“Kay.”
They forgive so easily.
Last night, with my husband as my #1 cheerleader, I attempted to trim my munchkin’s locks. Just a small trim. Not a big deal. One problem. He wiggles. This was nothing like that doll head I practiced on as a child.
The bright side is that I quickly recognized that things were not going well and I stopped. The result is not terribly pretty. There is not a straight line to be found and there is a decent amount of choppiness. However, in the midst of the ordeal, I had enough foresight to leave enough hair for my hairdresser to work with. We will visit her this week.
There are no pictures with this post. I just couldn’t do it. I assure you it’s not good. In fact, close friends and family have inspected my work and concurred that it’s not good. Luckily, my baby still has those big juicy lips and huge brown eyes.
Who’s looking at his hair anyway?