Yesterday I decided it was finally time for Ian’s first hair trim. For some reason the beginning of haircutting is a sign of growing up for me, and I put it off for as long as I can. Ian’s turn came a bit late, poor fellow, I just wasn’t ready for him to be a big boy yet. (Or more accurately, to try to get him safely still for a session with the scissors.) I trimmed as much as I could bear to cut, just to get the hair out of his eyes. The back was obviously too long for a little boy, but it still curled most days and looked angelic. Well, one day later (this afternoon) Seth took things (Ian’s curls, to be exact) into his own hands and chopped off a couple curls before I could stop him. Yes, he had permission to be using the scissors for his paper, he just re appropriated them. And so I filled Ian’s first hair trim bag from yesterday with his hair cut from today.
Amazingly, and thankfully, he looks a little younger with his hair at a proper length for a little one and a half year old.
Seth’s conversation during dinner this evening:
“Mommy, I wish we had knives on our feet so we could swing at Grandma’s house!” I asked him why we should have knives on our feet to swing at Grandma’s house and he replied, ” So we could skate on the dirt and in the air!”. Of course.
“Is pasta made out of snakes, Mama?”
“I’m killing it with my teeth!”
“I’m gonna build an alarm to fire up the sandbox!”
“This had turkey meat. That’s why it’s made out of meatballs.”
“Mama, we are flying on an airplane, a pretend one.”
“That airplane is making a contrail for the people to walk on! It’s making it wider!”
“A parachute is coming down here onto the ground, gently.”
This was all between mouthfuls of dinner, then he was excused (after finishing my meatballs) to go play in the sand box until dark.