Bye bye pageboy, hello buzz cut

Ever since Little Man has had enough hair to actually have a hair style, he's worn it long. During his second year, he had curly little ringlets all over his head. Eventually they became too long and unruly, so I had his hair trimmed, and sadly the ringlets went away and never came back. After that we kind of played around with a few styles for several months. It's turns out that Little Man's hair has just a touch of curl to it, just like his mamma's, and if it's too short it just looks like he has a permanent case of bedhead. So we grew it out, and discovered that Little Man is adorable with long, shaggy hair. It was convenient and easy on the budget, too. We would go several months between haircuts, waiting until the hair was getting in Little Man's eyes. Well, it had been time for Little Man to have a trim for a few weeks now. What with Christmas, then with the Arctic Blast that seemed to have parked itself over our region for weeks on end, we just hadn't gotten around to it. (Seriously, we had a week where the highs didn't even reach 20- in the South -we're just not used to that kind of weather!) Anyway, The Husband decided to go with Little Man for his cut, thinking they could have some father/son time. I gave The Husband explicit instructions to pass onto the stylist. "Just a little trim so it's out of his eyes and has a little shape, but keep it long and a bit shaggy." The Husband repeated it back to me, several times, in fact. So The Husband and Little Man go off together, for a haircut the the reward of a sucker afterwards.

About an hour later they come back. As I watch Little Man walk up the driveway, I notice that he has a new baseball cap on - and that I don't see any hair sticking out from underneath it. "Oh no," I think, "this can't be good." I brace myself for what I know I'm about to see. They walk inside, Little Man takes off his cap, and...

Buzz Cut.

Long, shaggy, adorable pageboy to buzz cut.

Now let me just say, I know it is just hair and I know it will grow back. But nevertheless, when I looked at my sweet baby's head, my heart started to hammer, my stomach became queasy, and a big knot formed in my throat.

My body stayed in that state for a few hours.

The Husband looked at me sheepishly. "I'm so sorry," he said. "She cut it once, but it was all crooked and sticking out funny, so I asked her to take just a little bit more off."

Then he said, "The next thing I knew, she had a razor out and had shaved a big stripe in the back of his head. What was I going to do, she had already done it?"

I told him there was nothing he could do, after all, I had taken Little Man to a haircut or two where they cut it way shorter than I had asked them to. (but they never shaved it, shaved a pageboy, I still don't get it!)

However, I did tell him he should have protested and then refused to pay, I mean, telling the stylist to trim a little but keep it long and a bit shaggy does not in any way, shape, or form mean pull out a razor.

Sigh.

Well, the good news is that Little Man loves his new hair. He looks at himself in the mirror, get a big and wide smile on his face, and says his hair looks like Daddy's, which it does.

I'm getting used to it, too, and I'm actually starting to like it a bit, but from now on I think I will take Little Man for his haircuts!