The first hair cut. It happened a few weeks ago, but I'm playing catch up around here and just got around to pulling them off the camera.
For the first hair cut I decided to make an appointment at a local barber shop and randomly chose Gerry's Barber Shop. I was really excited about the photos I'd take of William in front of a big mirror, with combs in blue liquid, old guys in smocks, and fluffy brushes to brush off the little hairs. We'd chat up the old guys hanging out discussing the weather and drinking coffee and William would win them all over. I'd print the pictures in black and white. Perfect, right?
We walked in and no Gerry. A whole bunch of ladies with thick accents and hands were thrilled to see us. No smocks, no combs in liquid, and no interior facelifts or cleaning service for a number of years. I first thought that we should turn and run, but the second they took in the little guy's baby face, I knew we were stuck. Leaving would break their hearts. Hair can grow back, hearts can't.
My instructions were clear: don't cut too much, only trim, clean it up, keep the length for the most part... I tried every way to say the same thing, but there was a moment when I realized it was a losing battle. She grabbed a good sized section of hair and snipped. I knew this was most likely going to happen, so I told myself that though it would hurt to see his adorable curls fall to the ground, his hair will grow back. I chose to try hard to ensure the first haircut was a good experience for William... and me. I kept my muth shut and kept smiling.
He smiled, chatted, and didn't cry until they tried to use the blow dryer on his him. Afterward we went for lunch at Fuel and William rubbed the back of his neck shocked his mullet no longer protected him from the cold.
Last week he saw a woman who resembled his recent stylist. He pointed, then said "Lady... snip, snip." It must have been quite an experience for the lilttle guy, would love to have seen it through his eyes.