Put Me in a Barber's Chair - Spun Me Around and I had No Hair

I had been dragging my feet about getting JAC's hair cut. I felt a sentimental attachment to those baby curls and hated to see them go. My husband didn't share my attachment and was ready for our little guy to look less like a little girl. Finally, I relented and we headed off to the barber.

I knew it wasn't going to go well but I put on a tough face and attempted to remain positive. As we waited in a short line at the barber shop JAC seemed fascinated as he watched grown men get their hair cut. I hoped this was a good sign but as we frequently say in the military, "Hope is not a plan."

Jess sat down in the barber's chair and JAC sat on his lap. The barber put black capes on both of them and began to snip away the first curls. I quickly snapped pictures and JAC quickly deteriorated into a waling ball of fury. By the end of the haircut JAC had ripped off his cape. Jess was holding JAC's arms and I was holding JAC's head still. The barber obviously bothered, kept asking me, "Is this enough." I knew I didn't want to do this again any time soon so I had him cut it short. When he was finished the curls were gone, my heart was hurt and JAC looked like a little boy not a baby.

A post-haircut blueberry sucker put a smile on JAC's face. A few days later Jess sat down and showed JAC the pictures of his hair being cut. JAC started crying and pulled on his hair. Hopefully he isn't scarred for life. I might have a long haired hippy on my hands. Happy Friday.