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It was time.

BG actually doesn't have a lot of hair. While she may have gotten every single other physical characteristic (okay not all) from her Daddy, one thing she did not get is his thick, amazing hair.

His hairline? yes. His lack of a part? yes. But not that thick hair.

Instead, the apparently ONE contribution I made to the little (besides her coloring and that amazeballs smile), would be a head of thin, doesntwanttogrowatall hair.

Fun.

So BG is almost two (gasp!) years old and is still rocking basically no hair up top but was starting to rock a fierce mullet in the back.



I've trimmed up her little baby bangs a few times but I was not touching her sweet hair to give her her first actual haircut.

So last Saturday, I picked up the phone, called a local salon and made BG an appt for that afternoon.

Right during naptime. I have amazing timing.

After multiple tantrums and looks from Mr. P saying he had zero faith in this decision, I finally got the two of them to the salon.

Where BG happily took a sucker from the nice lady, climbed in a chair, and froze.


I know my kid folks. She is always better for other people than she is for us. I so knew this would work.



While the other ladies in the salon "oohed" and "aahed" over her, BG sat wide eyed, sucker forgotten, as the lady took a few snips of that baby fine hair. I cannot tell a lie when I say I totally choked up a bit at just how big she seemed while still looking like my tiny baby in that big 'ol chair.



We took a billion pictures and smiled when the ladies remarked on just how good she was doing, while we let ourselves just soak all that in (and tried to block the hell we went through to get her there out).



It was over in five minutes. I managed to grab a handful of tiny, baby hairs to keep forever and BG hopped out of the chair and remembered that sucker.



We took her to Chick-fil-a to celebrate her being so good. And just like that, we accomplished another first. Man this is flying by.