That’s right – Senior Son is shaving his hair off tomorrow for the World’s Greatest Shave in support of the Leukaemia Foundation.
Hair is a big issue for Senior Son – or maybe for me more than him. He was born with a Mohawk. When they brought him to me after his first bath, malady I remember thinking what strange nurses they had in the hospital because they had brushed my not- even- a- day- old- baby’s hair into a Mohawk, generic but when I squashed it down it just bounced right back. Kind of like the person Senior Son himself turned out to be.
His Mohawk eventually grew out into a full mop of golden curls. I still have some of the hair from his first haircut and have put a golden curl into his birthday scrapbook. Once, when his hair was particularly long, he collected it all off the hairdresser’s floor and still has it in a bag somewhere in the turmoil he calls his room. I told him he should keep it to stuff in a pillow that his first love can sleep on. He looked at me strangely. He will obviously not be receiving romantic advice from his mum in the future.
Senior Son also has Poliosis – a patch of grey hair on the side of his head. It is quite prominent and he gets asked about it all the time. A few people have told him that it means he has been blessed by his ancestors. Personally, I like to believe that it is some kind of divine retribution whereby every time he gives me grey hairs, they land up on his head!
Senior Son and I are always arguing about his hair. When it gets long, it looks boofy like a clown. He loves it and of course I hate it. He hates haircuts. I agree to no haircuts as long as he puts product in his hair so that curls don’t frizz up. He runs away in fear of my hair lotions and potions.
Come tomorrow 6pm he is going to shave it all off. Every last curl. I know he is nervous. I know I am going to cry when I kiss his smooth head goodnight.
I am so very proud of him.