Sunday, 2 November 2014
I twist the silky hair around my finger causing it to curl in on itself. A perfect ringlet. I twist it longer than necessary. Hesitating. I comb it out and start again. This time with a slightly smaller section knowing I need three pieces of evidence. Hesitating.
I started so matter-of-factly. Collecting my tools, setting the scene, arranging the distraction of teeth brushing. But when it comes to it, I hesitate.
Pete looks away, "just do it."
One last twist and I do.
It comes away so easy. The perfect silky brown circle tucked in a bright white envelope. Like so many mums have done before. A rite of passage for parent more than child. A universal moment.
Strictly speaking, the first cut happened months ago. A hasty snip in the early hours of the morning when shampooing dried vomit wasn't a viable option. Another universal moment. Another rite of passage. Tidied away unceremoniously.
And it's done. With three snips he's a little boy.