Here at Ye Olde Fierce Beagle Inn, we even celebrate by turning our innards green and having them surgically extracted. I think that covers it.
* * *
Today was Ethan's third haircut. The first was done by a family friend, Judy, while we were in Los Angeles over the summer. Judy did my first haircut as well as my brother's in her kitchen. Ethan sat on the very same oak table I grew up eating at while she trimmed up his bangs and left his curls. I kept some of the clippings.
His second haircut was what I like to refer to as his first official haircut. We went to my salon, he sat in a chair on a booster seat, and had his wispies trimmed while draped in a zebra-print smock. This was a serious cut, so I kept some of the curls.
On to the third haircut, or the second official haircut, depending on whose calendar you're using. The thought of those precious, fluffy tangles being swept up and thrown away...affected me. That little bird's nest I bury my nose in every morning just didn't belong in the garbage. That's when I knew: This was The Moment.
I believe there's at least one moment in every person's life where you can cross over. You have two options: Do the thing you don't really want to do for the sake of being normal, or Do the weird thing and begin your downward spiral into mental illness.
More specifically, my choices were these: Let go already, or Collect some more clippings and 20 years from now on the morning of your son's college graduation find yourself weeping on the floor amid dozens of bags of his hair collected over the past two decades.
You chose wisely. Even though it squoze your heart to do it. And mine, a little.
The good news is that he will grow more. It's different than, say the fallen-off, mummified-like stub of umbilical cord that we all insist on keeping. (We do all keep them, right? RIGHT?)
I checked first thing this morning hoping you'd have a St. Patty's day post readily available. Since it wasn't, K and I agreed you must be "fake-Irish". Just kidding. I laughed quite hard at this post - thank you.
Ya know, I've never had corned beef and cabbage. It may have something to do with my Grandma insisting we are NOT Irish, we are *Scottish*, or it may have something to do with the fact that my mom struggled to find anything that could be cooked in bulk that all of her five brood would eat--cabbage would never have made the list.
I'm glad you resisted the urge (though you *could* have used all those bags of clipping to make super-soft pillows, juuuuuust sayin'). Cheers! *chink mugs, sloshing just a bit o' green beer*
Way to overcome!
I saved my fair share of baby hair too. (And NO I did not save the umbilical cord stub....gross!) You did the right thing limiting your baby hair collection. Not easy but the right thing!
Or you could go my mother's route and save my older brother's and my baby sister's first haircut clippings BUT NOT MINE.
Oh sure, that won't mess a kid up, particularly not a middle child. Surely it will be no big deal to said middle child in, say, middle school.
You could have dyed it green and eaten it or something
It's so true. My youngest son's hair is so fine that when he got his first haircut you literally couldn't see where his hair had gone.
$25 for a two year old?!!! Damn! I'm raising my prices!
Post a Comment