A Hair Cut

It has never failed to surprise me how people, many complete strangers, have felt the need to voice their opinions about the length of my son's hair. He's always had it fairly long, but it's hardly warrants the reactions it has received over the last couple of years. Some family phone conversations can go along the lines of 'Hello, how are you? How are the kids? Have you cut Arthur's hair yet?' Old women at bus stops have questioned why on earth I've allowed his hair to get so long informing me that he will get 'a squint' if it isn't cut with immediate effect.

Well, I bring relief to all those people. Yesterday Arthur had his first proper hair cut at the barbers. It's not his first hair cut. I do trim it now and again, otherwise it really would be too long. But Wednesday night after his bath I decided to do another trim. He would not keep still, so I just had to hack and hope. The result was not great; too short at the back and too long at the sides. The time had come to take a trip to the barbers.

So it was that I found myself in the unfamiliar surroundings of a barber's shop. Through gritted teeth I ask the lovely lady to tidy up his hair, but to please keep it longish. He sat on the plank that laid across the barbers chair like a statue. He almost seemed to enjoy the experience. He likes his new hair. I like his new hair. He looks so grown up now. It turns out the experience wasn't as traumatic as I expected (for me). The best thing is I've discovered he has a really soft spot on the back of his neck.
Louise Gorrodchildren, family, hair