His First Time
I thought we had a little more time.
“One of the greatest discoveries a man makes, one of his great surprises, is to find he can do what he was afraid he couldn’t do.”
I really dreaded this question.
I also really did not want to be the unreasonable parent. . .because the truth is I did not have a sound reason behind my “no.”
I mean maybe I could have mentioned the “curls” that only I seemed to still see at this point. I could have reasoned with the “"baby fro” that I had always envisioned for him. I could have even just said that I have a hard time seeing him hair-less.
So, “yes” is what I simply answered. Internally I screamed “NO!” There are certain things that I like to hold on tight to as my forever baby grows and develops. I’m stuck somewhere between wanting him to remain my little baby, staying present within toddler-dom and looking forward to him transitioning to an actual kid with less restraints. This entire experience is pretty fleeting. (Things they don’t tell you …or maybe things they told me but I never listened to…?)
So there it was Thursday May 20th at 4:48pm and I nervously rested my foot on the gas as I raced to beat Nas’ dad to the barbershop. I desired to perfectly position my car in place where my human magnet could not sense, or worse, see my pressence. I sighed a sigh of relief when I achieved my goal and saw them pull up directly across the street. My big boy walked up to the door with his dad totally oblivious to what was about to transpire. If I could, I would’ve aborted mission right there as I could picture his little face looking terrified once secured in the seat.
Before waiting a couple minutes more, I grabbed my phone and keys and attempted to tip toe in. After greeting the barbers inside, my eyes met his. The helpless face that I had mentally depicted had manifested itself in the physical. While it was evident that there was some relief to see “ma,” he clearly struggled with maintaining his loyalty to his dad. It was a “man code” of some sort … between a man and a toddler. Imagine that?
“Come on mom! Get the camera out” I was reminded by one of the barbers. As the other took his shears out, I mimicked my baby’s cringe. Even still, he sat still. The voice of his father empowered him to continue to be a big boy as the open and closing sound of the scissors traveled across his tiny skull. The sustenance of his father’s pressence and voice slowly dwindled as the shears were exchanged for the clippers. Before we knew it, it was over and not one tear was shed …until his barber doubled back for a photo. My sweet babies cries rang out LOUD after holding it in for an extended period of time. Once he had enough, so did I and I cradled him in my arms as I thanked the barber and we made our exit.
His Trader Joe’s fruit crusher was our saving grace upon returning to the car and we chatted the entire car ride back home. Once we arrived home, he could not wait to show off his haircut to the neighbors as he continuously pointed and repeated “haiya” (hair).
