haircut for a boy
He had his first real “little boy” haircut yesterday. I requested it, and was immediately sorry as soon as his red locks began floating to the porch floor. He fought, kicked, and cried through it, hairy sucker clenched in his fist. But he rocks his new cut, as well as his quickly approaching two-year-old-ness. For his birthday (tomorrow) he asked for a blue cake. Then a green one, then a red one. I decided to at least sort of stick with blue, and made him a giant blueberry muffin with lemon cashew frosting. He loves motorcycles, so I decorated it with a mo-hiha. He’s every bit a boy–clown, show-off, sister-teaser. Boy-oy-oy, he calls himself. All day long I hear, “Look, Ma–” followed by some great show of strength or skill, such as a crazy twirly dance on the kitchen floor, or a jump off the bottom stair step. Or holding a fork in his mouth by the handle (and then he twists his mouth into a little grin and lisps “smoke cigar.” ) Oh, the joys of having a boy.
Hello Birthday Boy-oy-oy! Miss you, miss you, really want to kiss you…..Love,Mimi
OH MY GOSH, HE REALLY LOOKS LIKE A LITTE BOY. A VERY HANDSOME ONE. NO MORE BABY. BOOHOO.
Yes, I know. Sad but true. 🙁