The Day We Cut His Hair

We just loved Miguel's curly hair. (This photo was taken two months ago.)

It’s been 18 months and 18 days to be exact. Not a lock of hair cut from this boy since he was born. People–especially in very traditional Philippines–were starting to think he was a girl at first glance.

“What a beautiful child!” they would say. “She looks just like a doll.” And I would politely say he’s a boy, his name is Miguel, and that we just love his soft, natural curls that’s why we wanted to let his hair grow out.

But this morning’s really bad hair (an understatement) pretty much made us decide that it was time.

Miguel's hair this morning was badly screaming for a cut, or a really good groomer. (The similar outfit from the previous photo taken two months ago is a funny coincidence.)

And so to this place called Cool Cuts we went. It had a little red fire engine where we situated Miguel for his first scissor encounter. He was very willing to “drive” the thing while watching The Little Einsteins in a small TV right in front of him.

This place thought of everything, I said to myself, but how long will the boy last? He was not loving the cape Shauna (the nice girl who cut his hair) put on him, but thankfully he kept it on throughout the whole process. I watched (and videotaped) as this boy drove, danced, and jumped in the fire truck, and squirmed at the cape around his neck. He did not mind the girl touching his locks, let alone snip away his curls. Daddy took photos of the whole deal. After what felt like 15 minutes (the haircut seemed to go super fast…I guess when you’re in that position, you do what you can in the fastest time possible to get the most decent cut possible out of a boy who seems close to impossible to give a hair cut.)

The result…

Miguel’s new haircut.

He looks like a completely different boy.

It’s a GREAT cut…

…but I am having curly hair withdrawal.


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