The second first cut

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.