Even though he is from pasty, Scottish-Irish-English stock, Jack is very...fuzzy. OK, he is alarmingly fuzzy. Now if we were Italian or Persian, it wouldn't be such a shock. But the kid is HAIRY! Even his shoulders! I am already (self?) pitying the woman who has to look at that pale, hairy back in bed each night...but I'm 25 years ahead of myself.
Anyway, his head-hair grows super-fast. And I love it, it's gorgeous, but he could (conservatively) get his hair cut every 4 weeks. Needless to say, with all that's been going on, we haven't been to the barber's since July and his hair is really shaggy. Sooo I decided to just give him a little trim b/c the shaggy look is quite cute on him (unlike Dan). Armed with the kitchen scissors, I snipped some sideburnage and mullet off and things looked much better. But, as you know, it is hard to STOP once you've started cutting someone's hair. It's a bit like just having a "taste" of cake frosting.
I managed to contain myself, but did give one questionable shear in the back that looks a little wonky. So I told Jack, "Don't ever let me do this to you again." He looked at me with somber eyes and nodded (his new thing).
Well, this morning I noticed that I had missed about 9 hairs over his left ear and they looked ridiculous. I got out the scissors and approached him..."MOMMY NOOoooo!!!" he screamed with glee, so eager to chastise me with my own permission!! I literally dropped the scissors. I didn't think that he'd remember--I had forgotten! This was alternately great and horrible news...I was in awe: he'd followed instructions in the future. I guess I have to stop muttering, "Kill me already," under my breath when I'm changing a doozie of a diaper. Maybe this is the long-awaited last mental step to potty training?!?!?
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