My tender-hearted Sam had such a rough day yesterday.
His gorgeous hair was overdue for a trim this weekend, so on Saturday I popped him on a stool and snipped away. I am never very sure what I'm doing, and while the back was tolerably even, I messed up above one ear, and took a little too much off one side. So yesterday, Patrick asked Sam if he wanted a haircut like his, with the clippers. Sam was ecstatic at the thought of using papa's clippers, so we went upstairs.
The first pass with the clippers was fun - "that tickles!" Sam giggled. But partway through the process, Sam started crying. "Put it back!" he wailed.
His gorgeous curls! Gone! Ahh I know it grows back but his stricken face completely pierced my heart. And there was nothing to do but hold him tight and finish the job. He thrashed and screamed and fought until he saw I was crying too. Then he sobbed "ohhh mama!" and threw himself into my arms.
He wouldn't even look in the mirror.
The storm passed and we went out for supper and a little playdate, and he wore the cutest hat to keep his head warm. It wasn't until after bathtime, though, that he finally peeked in the mirror at his new look.
He grinned at himself, and then smiled shyly at me. "You're so handsome!" I said, kissing him.
"I know," he laughed, streaking down the hallway toward his pyjamas.
This mother-heart is sore today, and I'm sure I have more silver in my hair than I did yesterday morning. But hey, I can always buzz it away, right? ;)