I knew that leaving my husband in charge for a few days was dangerous. Not because he can’t handle caring for Tori full time—he’s an awesome dad—but because he has issues with her hair.
Issues as in a complete inability to wrestle it into the pigtails she’s become famous for.
I pulled those pigtails just as tight as I could before I left, but by Saturday, her hair ended up looking like this:
A little ragged, to be sure. But when this photo arrived on my phone?
I did a double take. That didn’t look like the pigtailed baby I left. And when I got this one?
I may have let out an involuntary sob. My baby’s beautiful golden curls, the locks that had cascaded halfway down her back, were gone.
Yes, it was too long. And yes, it needed to be cut. But part of me? Is still very sad I wasn’t there for this:
All in all, it’s probably a good thing my husband mustered up the courage to do this. I may have waited until her hair was dragging on the ground before getting it cut.
And I can still wrangle it into her signature look. He made sure.
But it’s going to be a while before I leave that man alone with my child’s hair again. I wouldn’t want her to end up with a buzz cut.