The hairs on the sides of Cole’s head are genetically superior to the hair on the rest of his head. They grow the longest and fastest and they are no more.
The “wings” on either side of Cole’s head have been a matter of contention for nearly his entire life. They grew so long that they would sometimes find their way into his mouth and get stuck to his cheeks thanks to a nasty mixture of saliva and mashed-up food. He hated when I swiped at his face 14 times just to get three strands of hair out of the way.
“Is it a superstition that you didn’t cut Cole’s hair?” I just asked Lynnette. She nodded in the affirmative. “What is it?” I literally just asked. “I don’t know. Let me look it up!” she said. Great Cole’s hair has been held hostage by a superstition that we don’t even know. She just read them off the internet. Grim. And people call me stupid because I wear save my orange and blue boxer briefs for only the most important Mets games. Please.
Anyway, Lynnette draped a flat sheet over Cole after his breakfast with the intention of preventing the hair from getting all over him. That lasted 30 seconds before Cole started using his arms to pitch the sheet like a tent. “This isn’t going to work,” Lynnette said in a shiny-Pokemon rare admission of miscalculation.
I can’t say that Cole fought Lynnette as she cut his hair, but it was pretty obvious that he didn’t like having to…
A) …sit in his highchair once the food stopped coming.
B) …keep his head still for longer than .43 seconds.
C) …ignore the fancy pair of scissors floating above his head.
I am not a skilled photographer but I did manage to capture Cole’s first hair cut here in poor morning lighting while also avoiding Lynnette above the neck because she didn’t have makeup on yet. Well, I don’t think Cole was out of the seat before Lynnette and me both regretting cutting down Cole’s trademarked wings.
And maybe Cole didn’t like it either because this is the “after” picture of him. We placed him on the couch shirtless and covered in the remains of his beloved wings and he immediately starting crying. Actually, he was screaming at us. It was pitiful. It’s not that he’s got a horrible haircut or anything – it’s just that he doesn’t look like Cole. The hair that had always framed his face is gone. He looks like a regular little boy, if that makes sense.
I spent the whole day making jokes to Lynnette (from Cole’s point of view) about how bad/how much Cole hated his haircut. “I love you, Cole Boy,” Lynnette said while we were out today. “I love you, too,” I said in an extra nasally voice. “Even though you cut my hair like this and forced me into public with it,” I continued. Lynnette frowned but did not fight back.
Besides, Cole’s new ‘do might not even be the worst “first” grooming to have taken place in this house tonight. Madison just painted her toenails for the first time and whoooooa bebe!