It's early August. It's hot. He wipes his hands in his hair when they are messy with spaghetti sauce or yogurt or honey. And unkempt waves can look more like neglect than style on a toddler. So I cut it. Colin was not happy. When I looked at the pile afterward I wanted to undo what I had done. I wanted to cry. It was like a part of my baby was gone.
Today we have recovered. Colin grins and I think he can tell that his new hair cut makes him cooler. I took a picture of the baby hair pile and freed myself to throw it in the trash.
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