"I give thanks for this perfect day. Miracle will follow miracle, and wonders will never cease." -Unknown
Yeah, it's crazy, being thankful for haircuts. But if I've learned anything from my AS child and his noticable absence these past 2+ years, it is to catch hold of anything that matters and give thanks for it. no matter how goofy.
It all started with Bear and his non-conformity. He came home from school and declared "I want teenager-long hair". Oh, really, and why is that? "So I can look cool." Ah. So began a month of hair-growing-out-to-look-cool. Except that it didn't look cool. It looked like a stack of straw stuck on top of a six year-old boy's head. Just like his brother's.
Just like his brother.
When we moved to Alaska, I tried and tried to find a haircut place that was close enough and cheap enough for me to justify schlepping a husband and kids to their hallowed chairs. Couldn't find one, and heard friends talking about their own home haircuts using clippers, so I bought myself some and learned the fine art of clipper haircuts. Worked fine for Wolf and Yukon, not so much for Bear, who at the time had toddler hair and a wiggly body. He and I got the Great Clips cut. There's a savings there, I'm sure of it. Two pay, two stay. Worked for me.
With Thanksgiving looming large and my straw-stick-headed son looking scragglier and scragglier by the minute, I took charge on Wednesday and declared Haircut Night for both Yukon and Bear.
I usually get a little sentimental around the holidays where Wolf is concerned, and understandably so, but I wasn't prepared for what happened that night when I sat his little brother up on the old stepladder that serves as our haircutting stool.
As Bear sat, shirt off, old towel wrapped around his neck, waiting sullenly for me to plug in the clippers and get the show on the road, my mind flashed back to another stick-haired, skinny-backed little boy sitting in that very same spot.
I turned the clippers on, listening to their reassuring hum and bent Bear's head down so I could begin, eyes blurring as I looked at a soft little neck with a birthmark at its nape, just like Wolf's, hairline ending in exctly the same spot, the strands feeling similarly fine under my fingertips. In a moment of precious familiarity, I almost forgot which child was sitting before me.
"Miracle will follow miracle, and wonders will never cease."