Toby’s first haircut

11 May

Toby is 15 months old and had escaped a haircut until now. The reasons for this are twofold. Firstly, I am petrified of even having scissors in the same room as him. Every time I think of cutting his hair or nails, my heart starts beating faster. Nails fall within his daddy’s job description. Secondly, I loved running my hands through his hair while he was snuggled up on my lap drinking his bottle. It was so soft and feathery. However, with an increasing proportion of strangers mistaking him for a girl, it was definitely time to rid him of the unruly mess that was his hairstyle.

I had imagined that on the big day of his first haircut, we’d get him dressed in his best little outfit and take him to a hairdressers. In my head it was a salon with fish swimming around a brightly coloured tank to distract him and a chatty hairdresser with blunt scissors. I’ve been waiting for the day that I thought he was ready and it’s still not come. He won’t sit still for a second and his hair was becoming something of a mop; I’m not entirely sure he could see where he was going through his bangs and he was developing a little tail.

Last weekend we went camping in our VW Campervan and then drove onto Cowpie Country show. When we arrived at the Country Show, Toby was fast asleep. Tom leapt into action, rummaging for our camping scissors and began the offensive on the mop. I of course, stayed as far away as possible – armed with camera and with all manner of gory thoughts filling my head. Thankfully no eyes were taken out, or fingers lost in the process, but when Toby emerged with his new style I realised that I no longer have a baby. The haircut transformed him and matured his face. People could no longer confuse him with a girl – he’s definitely turning into a smelly little boy. Where is the time going?

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