It seems pretty much everyone is looking a little rough around the edges these days, from family to neighbours, politicians to reporters; quite a few of us are in need of a ‘little off the top.’ Slowly, appearances are changing as restrictions ease and people are visiting their salon or barber.
It has reminded me of my son’s first haircut. He was born with a full head of hair and as the days grew into months, it grew into long curls around his neck. When he was hot they would stick to his little neck…and so the day came when they had to go.
He must have been around nine months old – I am sure I have recorded the date somewhere – it was around the same time he started walking. I knew the curls needed to be cut, but I was terrified of snipping him in the process.
I enlisted Mum as the distraction, waited for him to wake from his nap and put our plan into action. We sat on the front steps – he on my lap and the scissors hidden from view – watching the cars go by, singing our little songs. It was only a couple of quick snips, but what a difference it made in his appearance – he changed from a baby and into a toddler while sitting on my lap. At least that is how my mother heart felt at the time.
I kept those baby curls in a jar, stashed away in our cedar chest with all the other memorabilia from our lives – old yearbooks, awards and trophies, my wedding dress, the outfit worn home from the hospital, Douglas the stuffed doggy and giraffey, kindergarten art…the tangibles of milestones.
It was only a few short minutes, but the memory of that afternoon has stayed with me and warms my heart. Looking at the photos this morning, I have the same urge I must have had those many years ago; to cover that little neck with mother kisses.