A Haircut

So, Hugo got his first haircut this weekend. 

And I must admit, I’m totally having a touch of hair regret. 

Predictably, with a new haircut Hugo seems so much less a baby. His cheeky antics are no longer softened by loose curls. When he grins at me and then pours his cheerios all over the (carpeted!!!) floor, the hard angles of his new ‘do bring just a touch bit more intention to his antics. When I sneak into the kids’ room for one last goodnight kiss, I hardly recognise this perfect little round head. I miss the softness, that mess of hair, the curls at the nape of his neck, that topknot. RIP topknot. 

I mean, I love his hair cut. He does look super adorable. It brings out his big hazel eyes. And, as my father will be glad to hear, he no longer has hair swooping over his face, threatening lazy eye and possible blindness. My poor dad was fairly concerned about the long term ramifications of Hugo’s nonsense hairdo. 

I’m not even sure how that happened, really. I mean, I swore up and down that I wouldn’t cut his hair until he turned two. But then, I guess, this was a case of hipsterism and possibly cool hunting.

I was at the BrightSpot Market with the fam (home to basically everything hipster in Jakarta, which is, ps, a city more hipster than Montreal, or so I’m told by someone in the know.) We walked by a barber stall, like a legit barber stall with spinning blue and white barber pole, and I was like, let’s get Hugo a hair cut. I was half joking.

Well, Mr. Chef seized on this opportunity, roused Hugo from a near-nap, and beelined to the barber. I intended to just trim the back a bit, but then, well, I was like, Undercut? Yes. Let’s go with that.

And so, here he is. My big boy. With a heartbreakingly cool new ‘do. 

But I’m happy to report that at least sometimes, Hugo brings me a hair elastic and asks for me to put his hair up again. So, maybe the topknot is not gone forever.