When I arrived home from work last Thursday I was met with a hysterical child wearing a cowboy hat and clutching his teddy bear.
Zach had cut his hair. Three big cuts right up the front. With his plastic handled, rounded tip safety scissors.
Contrary to the photo above he was crying hysterically. I am pretty sure our babysitter scared the daylights out of him thinking I was going to be livid and that she was going to get in trouble. Neither of those things happened.
I had to immediately sit down on the floor of the garage and attempt to console both he and James, who doesn’t like anyone receiving more attention than him. I assured Zach I was not mad (I was not) and that Daddy would not be mad (he was not) and that we loved him and he really needed to calm down. And I told James to pull it together I am right here.
Allegedly the baby sitter was changing James’ diaper when Zach got after his hair in the back room. The scissors were in the art box on the cabinet. He could reach them if he got on a stool, pulled the box over to him, unlatched it and grabbed them under some paper. Never underestimate a child’s perseverance I guess.
He did a bang up job of butchering his hair. The hair in front is cut down to his hairline and the two following cuts are almost as close. So he left us no choice but to get him a buzz cut.
I sent a picture of his hair to Alex saying that he finally got his wish. He has wanted to buzz Zach’s hair for the past two years and I have staunchly vetoed that. I love that kid but he has the Wall head. Long and oval like a football – he needs some hair.
And I was right. The head only a mother could love.
I told him if he cuts his hair again he will get the wrath he was so worried about…