His First Haircut

The time had come. Granted, he didn't have much hair to begin with; however, Mr. Max was cursed with the dreaded tail. Not one of those duck-tails popular circa 1991, which would have been easy enough just to snip off at the bottom, but a tail that began a quarter length down the back of his head and ended about three-quarters down.

I wish this picture did it justice, but bad lighting plus squirmy kid does not the greatest depiction make. Oh well, just believe me when I say it was a noticeably cute little quirk. Anyhoo, so the other evening as he sat on my lap I realized he had some sort of sticky goo caught in the tail. I tried to comb it out but I only succeeded in making him "owie" and angry.

But when I brought out the scissors he decided that was a great and novel way to spend the evening, especially considering the baby in the big silver wall was having the same thing done to him! What excitement! I know, right?

Emme graciously volunteered to catch all the wayward wispy strands to save in Ziploc posterity forever. I admit I was a little bit sad because 20 months is the earliest I've ever had to give a haircut, but that sticky gooey tail just had to go.

Can you tell a difference? Yeah, I can't really tell a difference either.