She woke up this morning ready to take the plunge, too impatient to wait for her hairdresser aunt to cut it sometime this week. I would be willing to bet hard earned dollars that her impatience had everything to do with a birthday party at the skating rink this afternoon. Given my penchant for spontaneous hack jobs, I was happy to be given the chance to chop away.
Her shorn hair looks beautiful, just has her wild mermaid locks did just this very morning. Her sweet little face pops right out, and her excitement over the change makes her radiant. But I look at her now, and I see an older child. Old enough to want to start deciding, all on her own.
I try to remind myself it's just a haircut.
But a haircut has the power to be so much more.
A sign of change.
And she was ready to choose her own.