The other night, Buddy, our one year old boy, got his hair cut for the first time. It was getting pretty long and starting to curl in some spots and I thought it was time to get his 'do evened out and stuff.
Every time Di put the comb through his hair and had just lined the scissors up perfectly, he would turn his head, look at her and smile a really big smile like he just realized she would have to start over. At least he didn't wait until she was just nanoseconds away from cutting a section before he moved.
Like a good Mom, I saved some of the clippings (but I didn't get pictures, because I'm a *good* Mom, not a *great* one...) and when Di was done cutting his hair she asked me what I thought.
I looked at him objectively for just a moment before I told her she had given him a "big boy" haircut. He didn't look like a baby anymore, he looked like a little boy. I told her that even though I had asked her to cut his hair, and even though I was pleased with the results, I told her it would be at least a week before I could forgive her for making him look like he was growing up.
She said that was ok.