On Friday Zoe had her first haircut. It was long overdue (her hair hung down in front of her eyes like an Old English Sheepdog) and she would not wear a barrette. I remember as a teenager my mother constantly harping on me to get my hair out of my eyes, and I could never really understand why, if it didn’t bother me, it bothered her so much. Well, now I know. It looks bad. That’s it. There’s really no other reason. I don’t remember it affecting my vision and it didn’t seem to affect hers. But it was bad enough that each week even her music class teacher would say, “Still haven’t gotten it cut?” We brought Zoe to our local Snippety Crickets, and even though they gave Zoe a toy to hold and there were a ton of distractions around the room she still started to cry as soon as we put her on the chair. Alison ended up holding her. The woman cutting Zoe’s hair was Russian and was tender in the way that all former KGB torture specialists are tender; but she was fast. And it looked really good for the first half hour, until Zoe’s hair settled into it’s natural position, then it simply looked like an uneven pageboy haircut. But not surprisingly it looks better. You can now see Zoe’s whole adorable face. But more importantly, my mother would have been happy.
Happy Parents Day to all the moms and dads out there.
Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel17thMonth
First Haircut: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/Zoes1stHaircut
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034