It was time. I hated to do it. I shed a few tears but it needed to be done.
Day after day, a kind stranger would remark on what a beautiful little girl he was. The lady at the deli counter asked if she could have a piece of cheese. His older brother said that all of his friends thought he had a little sister, not a brother. What is a Mama to do?
“It’s just hair,” I told myself. I loved his wavy length but it was prone to knots and caused him pain whenever I tried to detangle it. It was getting in his eyes when he played or colored. It needed cut.
So yesterday I spontaneously pulled into the parking lot of a salon that I had never been in before, hoped for the best and walked out with a little man.
His ears are adorable, one slightly pushed out just like his older brother’s and his eyes…oh his eyes…they just pop now. Before the stylist had swept the hair from his neck and released the cape from around his neck I knew we made the right decision.
It’s disconcerting though. All of his expressions seem new when displayed on an unframed face. I keep forgetting we cut his hair and when he walks back into the room it startles me. I wondered if his teachers would even know who he was when he got off of the bus this morning.
I love this kid.