(fluorescent lighting is most unkind – this is the best I could get this shot to look with some post-processing work)
Well, maybe not technically the first. Back in December I asked Craig’s barber Mario to cut me a small lock of Wesley’s hair as a keepsake, and we somehow ended up with enough of it to fill an envelope and a somewhat official first haircut certificate. Wes sat on my lap, and I sat a bit open-mouthed not sure what had just taken place.
But this month came the real deal. I watched those little ringlets forming at the base of Wesley’s neck getting longer and longer and toyed with the sweet idea of growing his hair long, but I just couldn’t deal with the serious comb-over that had taken form of late at the very top of his head. We’d go to the park and the long strand of hair would stick right up and wave in the wind. He was starting to look more like a little old man than a little boy.
And Wes really was a trooper about the whole thing. He quietly sat on his daddy’s lap and kept still and didn’t offer a single complaint. I hope Mario doesn’t retire anytime soon. I love the tradition we started that day of both my boys going to the barber together; first Wes, then Craig, both coming out looking ridiculously more handsome than they’d gone in, if that is even remotely possible.