The Irony

Today I told Mark he needed a haircut and we were going to see Titi. Titi is the amazing lady that not only cuts Mark's hair well but tolerates his incessant chatter from the moment he hits her chair until he climbs out.

As much as he loves Titi, Mark didn't want to go see her. He wanted a haircut like Braeden and Dad get. With the clippers.

Braeden, who hates the clippers practically fell off his chair. "You WANT to get your hair cut?"

Mark said yes.

I have Braeden whose hair resembles a chia pet when it gets long wishing he could have long hair.

Here's Mark with the gorgeous hair that wants it cut. Short.

We never use the clippers on Mark's hair. It's pretty color and silky curls have prompted me to keep his hair long.

I decided it wasn't about me and I obliged my boy.

Mark said, "I look terrific!"

I'm left wondering two things:

1- Will I be able to get used to his shorn head? I miss those curls.

2- Which one of my brothers does he now most resemble? I can't tell.