We waded into uncharted waters today, Angus and I. From a wee babe, beautiful blonde locks have adorned his head. They grow like wildfire. Long and lustrous. Untamed and free. But of late, it has been getting harder to maintain these gorgeous tendrils. We have disagreements about how often it should be washed and when we do wash it, it causes no end of drama. I have even 'gone there', on the bribe front, on more occasions than I care to remember. As for the cutting, this has been my role from day dot. From that first little trim when he was 9 months old, I have been his hairdresser. Until this morning.
Along with the dramatic hair washes, we've also seen some academy award performances over the trims, in recent months. So much so, that I have been leaving the time between each trim longer and longer, just to avoid conflict. On most days, Angus will say at bath time "you don't need to chop my hair tonight, do you Mama?" So, he's not exactly keen. So I decided to hand over the reigns, to the professionals. He looked so cute, sitting up in the specially modified hairdresser's chair, with the black cape on. His sweet little face, poking out, looking part bewildered, part pleased with the new experience.
The novelty wore off around the 10 minute mark and a degree of uncertainty set in. We coaxed him through with a lollipop and he seemed pretty happy with the end result. I'm still undecided. Glad I have given it a try, but really looking forward to it growing back. I almost felt like crying this afternoon when I realised how short it is, I am missing those beautiful locks already. It took me back to when my Mama had my hair cut in a bob style just before I started school. Oh so 80's. I hated it. Once it grew back, I never went short again. Maybe history will repeat itself and I won't have Angus' hair cut as radically again. One thing is for sure, it will grow again... and with time, the new look might even grow on me.