Poor James. His first haircut was so different than Sophie’s. Andy and I drove separately as I was getting my hair cut and colored by the wonderful Nicholena (at Mitchell’s in Northgate if you’re looking for someone) after James had his haircut. But Andy had to get gas and then got stuck in traffic so I arrived ahead of him, with all three kids, by myself. I held Owen while trying to take pictures of James one-handed and keep Sophie calm. About three minutes in Sophie, of course, had to use the bathroom. So I took Owen and Sophie with me to the women’s restroom, leaving James with Nicholena. James did well at first, but then started screaming, not knowing where any of us were. So Nicholena graciously brought him in to me.
Andy finally made it (although he missed most of the haircut) and in the chaos I completely forgot to ask for a lock. So now Sophie and Owen have a lock of hair in marked envelopes from their first haircuts, and James does not. Even though he’s not technically the youngest, sometimes, I feel like it works out that way for him. I was so tempted to cut a lock of hair off the back of his head on my own, once home, but Andy convinced me not to. I’ll just save one next time. And James, if you’re reading this 20 years from now, I’m sorry.
“O, would ye know why thus I prize this little lock of hair,
Why thus I press it to my heart, and treasure it with care?” —Jane Ermina Locke