Daddy's Boy

It was time for a haircut.

The little curls had become traps for leaves, grass, dirt...and Daddy said it was time to break out the clippers.

I was upstairs in the school room.   Daddy came up with a grin, clippers in hand.

"He says he wants to be bald like me."

I looked at him with eyes wide...

"NO, the last time you did that he looked like he had cancer.  His scalp will be lighter than the rest of his body. Leave him SOME hair please."

"Ok."  He turned to go back downstairs but I caught the twinkle in his eye.

I officially had no say in what was about to happen.  None, nada, zip.

Happy chatter and laughter drifted from the bathroom where Daddy was trimming the boys.  Sweet Drew, so ebony and beautiful.  A perfect contrast in complexion to his milky white  so very Caucasian  have I mentioned he has Irish blood?  father.  He came out with his white teeth glowing against the brown of his newly clean face.

He now sported a fade.  He was SO proud of it.  Squeaky bald around the sides and just enough hair on top to cover his scalp with neat edges all around.

He looked positively tribal.

I told him he looked awesome.

The next morning, Drew and I left the house early.  The last basketball game of the season.  He was keyed up with excitement and anticipation.  As we gathered our things to get out of the car he said with a knowing smile,
"When all the kids see my hair, they're gonna say I look just like my Daddy."

I stifled a giggle and said, "They sure will, sweet boy."

...in every way that matters.