The Big Chop

This was my son yesterday. Happy and carefree with his lovely hair. I had received pressure from various people, but especially Husband, to cut his hair. I wasn’t fussed that people sometimes mistake him for a girl. 

But I understood where Husband was coming from when he said that Dubz looked messy. So today we took him to a children’s hair salon in South Wimbledon for his first haircut.
Dubz was not impressed with the chair that looked like a car. And even watching In The Night Garden and eating a biscuit could not get him to calm down. He screamed and cried. Husband and I had to hold him down. Oh the trauma. For him and me. For 25 minutes.

I had to keep staring at Dubz in the car, because he looks so different. But a few hours later, I am enjoying seeing his ears and the back of his neck for the first time in ages. I’ll tell you one thing, we are not going for another haircut for at least a year. At least. 

Yes, he looks a bit older than what I am used to. But he is still my baby boy. 

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