Against my better judgement, I hauled Jack Jack into an actual hair salon (as opposed to my kitchen counter) and asked a stranger to just trim his hair up a bit. I begged for her mercy and forgiveness as she was about to discover his hair was the product of my two years' worth of playing kitchen beautician. When she got started, I explained that I "like it a longer as he is still a baby." I watched on as she chopped off all my baby's pretty hair. Wringing my hands. Gritting my teeth. Minutes later, she was done. And that's when it happened. Right then, I witnessed a little boy hop out of the chair where I had just set my baby.