Hair diaries

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I remember when our haircut days were like this.

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This past weekend I went through what, though very common it the cycle of raising children, was quite traumatic. My baby joined the almost grown world of his older siblings. Soon he'll be going to the mall by himself, watching movies and have no need to ask his mum (who'll then be muuuum...) about the plot.  This past weekend my young Mister went to get his first professional haircut.

He was actually supposed to start last year at the salon but being the loving mother that I am —and early empty nest syndrome sufferer — I managed to convince him to put it off. But suddenly last week he brought it up because the haircut he wanted to get could only be done by a professional. He was quick to reassure me that I'd done a great job so far — yes, I cried a bit when confronted by the sensitive little boy I've raised — but that's as far as my mum powers would take me.

My big fear however has not been that my little baby, the last one who without doubt  still believes that I'm a rock star.  And that it takes superpowers to bake his favourite cupcakes and make his favourite flue remedy that makes him feel better on the spot.

I was afraid that if I let him out into the big world of hair salons and haircut option boards he'd go wild and select something like this:

As a mother I am all about my children being free to express themselves but this would very awkward during a school term, not to mention he would look like a little boy who is a tad confused and needs a tight hug.

I must admit after the chat my daughter and I had before the big salon day a new fear started to creep up on me based purely on a mother's instinct to protect her babies. What if he decided to get one of these?

 

Children can be very cruel even his sister said that he'd be asking for the teasing if he got one of these. So with my motherly heart in my throat and my eyes glazing over with tears I waved on the driveway as hubby drove off hair salon bound — I mean the barber.

I was so proud to that  what Young Mister decided to get was mostly a trim and funky edges, nothing too spectacular.

My heart really cannot take all this growing up.

 

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