I took my precious, fragile little man for his second haircut the other day. The first one went ok. He was very brave. But the second time I took him he knew what he was in for and he didn’t like it at all.
I held him as they cut and I could see he was scared, my heart was shedding a soft, silent tear. The hairdresser did a remarkable job but my boy is not easy consoled or distracted. I felt for them both.
I thought this trip said so much about him, about where he is at, about how I want to raise him.