“I think I want to cut my hair,” Baylee said to me about a month ago.
I laughed, then looked at him and noticed his serious face. “Please just think about it for a few weeks. It took you two years to grow it,” I said.
He did, and mentioned it casually throughout the weeks, and when I came home today, he said, “I’m ready for you to cut my hair.”
“Are you sure?”
“Get the clippers.”
I combed through his hair and put it in a ponytail, then into a tight braid.
“Are you sure?” I asked him again.
“Yes,” he said, so I began cutting.
“Wait!” he said, always a jokester.
I cut off the braid then took the clippers to the sides and back, then shaped the top with scissors.
He just looks so old with it short, but he’s sixteen so I suppose he should look old.
Here’s the after. I’ll need a minute: