A Pictorial Tribute to The Hair

Wednesday will be a monumental day here in the House of Sturg. Micah has lived to see 1st grade and Cade starts Kindergarten. Oh glorious day!

It will mark the end of the boys' Summer Justice League Training Camp, which is really just a ruse for the disobedience that is them climbing over, under and on top of the furniture for the sake of improving their super hero powers. My non-stop gentle reminders that "We DON'T CLIMB OR JUMP ON THE FURNITURE," may also cease. We'll all be much happier.

And let's be honest- the boys are no closer to meeting the admission requirements of the Justice League now than they were when summer began. But it's good for children to have realistic aspirations.

Cade is absolutely beside himself with delight over the start of school. He's been asking me daily since May if it's the day for him to begin school. And just this morning he informed me that "tomorrow will be the best day of [his] life!" Bless his heart. I just pray his teachers are ready. May my angels not cause their respective sweet-spirited teachers to lose their religion. At least not on the first day.

So our summer is officially drawing to a close today. Although it's not like the real season of summer is going anywhere soon. This IS Texas, where the only seasons we have are Warm and Hotter then Hell.

Last night J, the boys, and I had the opportunity to Meet the Teacher(s) at the school. On the way home from the school I asked Cade what he thought of his teacher.

"Well, she's beautiful is all I know," he said genuinely.

I think they'll get along just fine.

Unfortunately, just moments before the car ride home, as we were leaving the school, we ran into the Head of School. Innocently, she said to me (regarding Cade), "He's going to be getting a hair cut, right?

Uh, wha-, 'scuse me???

Cade has long-ish hair. Amazing, gorgeous, and TOTALLY AWESOME long-ish hair. It's part of him and his personality. And I'm very particular about cutting it because most people don't have the skills it takes to style it properly. He's received the "Lloyd Christmas" look one too many times for me to let just anyone take the scissors to his locks.

But now, Cade's hair and the previously-unbeknownst-to-me school regulations are at irreconcilable odds. If he's going to go to school at the institution to which we've already paid a boatload of money, his hair cannot touch his collar, can be no longer than the middle of his ears, and must be above his eyebrows.

When I heard this news, I rent my garment, shaved my head and fell to the ground. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, right?

I can't think about it. I can't even consider it. I'm not sure I can even call and make The Appointment, much less actually drive him there, put him in the seat and WATCH as his gorgeous hair is stripped away.

The date for the shearing is yet to be determined. For the first time, I'm actually quite grateful that our regular stylist is generally booked weeks in advance. But inevitably the day will come. And after that day, all I will have left of his hair will be in pictures.

Thus, the following tribute. To Cade. And his beautiful hair.

Please pause for a moment of silence.

Amen.