The other day while I was at work somebody decided to cut his own hair. Kevin said it got too quiet upstairs and when he went and checked on Alder he had removed his bangs. He told Kevin that they were in his eyes and bugging him. Who could really blame him. Still we told him that next time he should ask one of us to cut his hair. I told him I needed to cut it some more and he said that he wanted to do it later so that his friends at Co-op could see it first. So we got our stuff together and headed down to the fountains by the Art Museum and central library.
That night I trimmed his hair as best I could and that was that.
I know that most families this would be avoided. That it might be seen as something bad that he did, but here it is just another part to our story. I guess we could put away the scissors, but then how would he make collages when he wanted to? Or he could always be occupied with activities that we plan, but then he would never have built the double high bridge using his blocks and train tracks and some bricks he found. Either way the sacrifice seems greater than the benefit.
I don’t think he’s going to cut his hair again, this trim has gotten in the way of the plan of growing his hair down to his toes. But I’m not willing to cut it again either, that wasn’t the best get along experience we’ve had, with all the squirming and the holding him still. We’ve agreed that next time he feels like having his hair cut we’ll get one of the women over at Big Hairy Monster to do it.