Jared's first haircut!

As the jungle of locks got thicker and thicker, I knew it was nearly here--that fateful decision that all mothers must, at some time, face: To trim or not to trim. That was the question that confronted me every time I saw the wisps of side hair start to creep over Jared's ears in Beatle-like fashion. It confronted me every time I saw the thick locks peeking over the back of his Sunday shirt collar. And it confronted me with special urgency whenever Jared--with a fistful of oatmeal--ran his hands across his cheeks and up through his hair. The effect was even better than mega-hold hair gel (but a whole lot harder to wash out).





So I opted to trim. On Thursday, May 29, at 6:30 p.m., we plunked Jared on a chair in front of Baby Einstein, used two plastic pocket bibs for a drape, and pulled out the scissors. I started out gingerly, not wanting to sheer too much of his sweet "baby hair." But I grew bolder as I realized how truly wild and woolly the back of his head was. After ten minutes (and a lot more trimming than I had originally expected), Jared had a missionary-approved haircut.




No wailing, no fighting, no tears. Lisa made it through the event with honor. She didn't even regret her choice to trim the next day. No, she thinks Jared looks great with his new do.