There's no better way to ring in the new year than with a hair cut. At least that's what my dear four year old decided. Sunday night, Sol and I were busy with the other two little boys while Finley colored... when I came over to check on him, he announced proudly, "I CUT MY HAIR!"
And I was speechless. He sweetly showed me where he cut his hair and explained that he swept it all up and put it in the trash. Apparently, it was getting in his face while he colored. We had been trying to find the time to get a haircut for weeks--and he apparently took matters into his own hands. He kept telling me that he wanted to look like the Eleventh Doctor, which was ironic... because his previous hair was pretty close to Matt Smith's (the doctor on the right). His fascination with Doctor Who is a whole other post.
These were the last pictures taken of his long baby boy hair--and could practically be worthy of their own post. He's quite fond of Keaton (finally!) and loves to play with him and make him laugh (finally!!) They are adorable.
Luckily, the hair cutting happened about an hour before hair places closed--so Sol rushed out to get it fixed. The ladies at the barber shop fussed over him and generally made him feel adorable. He told Sol that I was not going to like it when I saw it--but how could I not love it? He's kinda adorable all the time. My baby. He tells me often, "I'm supposed to be the Eleventh Doctor with a triangle piece of hair in the front." He's still not a fan of the hair, but it's growing on him. (Pun totally intended.) I tried to tell him that his hair looks like the Tenth Doctor's (scroll up, on the left) but he's not buying it.
When we took him in to show Braden his hair, Braden said,"Finley's got ears." Yes, he does. We were surprised about that too. We asked Finley what mom and dad said when we saw his hair and he thought for a minute and then exactly mimicked what we did--both speechless, Sol put his hands over his eyes and I put my hands over my mouth. I thought it was funny he remembered what we did! He walked around the rest of the evening telling us his hair was "cray cray" (note to self: saying cray cray ironically, like ONCE is still enough for it to become part of a four year olds vocabulary) and lamenting, "I HAVE NOTHING TO LIVE FOR!" Thanks Charlie Brown Christmas.
Four year olds are delightful. I'll never get enough of that kiddo.