First Real Haircut

Mommy went first, of course, and even then he refused at first to have his hair cut.  He did, in fact, utterly refuse to allow Miss Hilda to wash his hair, but he consented to let her comb it, and then, when she asked again, said yes to a cut.

The very nice older lady under the blow dryer kept telling the stylist, "don't cut too much!  He's still little!"  Thereby lifting the burden of anxiety over whether my baby would be utterly shorn from my shoulders, since she had it covered for me.  In the end, Daddy actually couldn't figure out that he'd had a haircut until he was told.  So he looks tidy, and cute, and not at all drastically different.  What a relief.

What? You want to see my hair, too? Well, okay...

 I'm strictly a "wash and wear" gal, though, so we'll see how it looks when I don't have a professional styling it for me.