My Traumatic Hair Experience

So something ya'll should know about me is that I get ridiculously attached to hair.

Fact: My sophomore year of high school, my boyfriend Matt cut his hair from shoulder-length shaggy to practically a buzz cut. He didn't tell me before hand. I didn't look at him for three whole days.

It's to the point where it's ridiculous and I get emotional over it.

That being said, I had a traumatic hair experience today. Oscar got his hair cut.

My beautiful, luscious Salvadorean got his even more beautiful, thick, dreamy locks chopped. The woman who did it cut it shorter than we asked and I just. I can't even handle it. He needed to get it trimmed, for sure, but this woman AMPUTATED his hair's metaphorical arms, legs, and rump. And she thinned it so it's like. Super thin like my hair - no bueno. His mom threatened to cancel his plane ticket to El Salvador if he didn't get it cut. UGH, INTOLERABLE.

I cried. Yup.

Perspective: I did this to his head yesterday. It goes past the photo.

When she first started; shorter than I told her.

My heart was having palpitations.

It's honestly about... eh. It's shorter than it looks in the photo once it dries. I think he looks sixteen. But he's adorable no matter what his hair looks like, and I still love him just the same.

I truly felt like a mom and her kid's getting his first hair cut.

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