This isn't actually a little moment in my book.
This is big.
My baby boy went for his first proper haircut and came back a fifteen year old.
It all started with a little trim by moi. Said trim turned into a disaster. One word, mullet, and not the cute kind (wait, is there a cute kind?!), it looked baaaaad. So I tried to rectify the situation, ya know, a little trim here, a little trim there, until it looked really, REALLY bad. So bad in fact I kind of missed the mullet.
I awoke the next morning as if it had all been a bad dream and that I had not butchered my boy's beautiful blond mane. Pahhhh, denial, as a seventies inspired, wonky haircut danced into our room.
So I did what any good mother would do, begged my husband to take him to the barbers and save me the shame of showing off my handiwork. Obvs.
He agreed (what a guy!) and then looked at me horrified as I started sending him Pinterest images of little boy haircuts to his phone. I clearly had not been schooled in the local barber's etiquette, apparently you just sit in the chair and hope for the best, you absolutely do NOT show pictures of random kids that aren't your own on your phone (my husbands words). I mean, who knew ;)
They left. I felt sick. I looked at Archie and made the mental note to never cut his hair myself. See, there are some benefits to being the second child!
Before long I heard that familiar, 'HI' and the stomping of his feet, it would appear that's where the familiarity would end though because in walked a different boy. My jaw dropped.
'So?', my husband nervously asked.
'He looks like you.', I said stunned, and then burst into tears.
Yep, sorry about that hubs. I promise it was just the shock ;)
Just like that, it felt my toddler boy and his blonde locks were gone, and in his place was this little grown up beaming at me because he now had hair like his daddy. Seeing him love it, made me love it all the more. Oh and the blond curls, I've got them tucked in an envelope next to my bed. A lock of his toddlerhood that I'll keep forever. Sob, sob.
With the big three just around the corner (eek this coming Saturday!) this boy has got the threenager look down, and of course the behaviour. Oh, dear. Guess I can't blame the barber's for that one.