Our firstborn son was bald for so long that we cherished each tender shoot of hair that finally sprouted on his head. The idea of ever cutting his hair seemed absurd, fanciful, far-fetched. It took many months after his curly locks began obscuring Miles' eyes before the scales fell off of ours.
Finally, there was no denying it: the boy needed a haircut.
Of course, we loved his vertiginous curls. And we had nothing against the androgynous look. But "how old is your little girl?" was becoming an increasingly frequent question.
In any event, the long-dreaded, long-delayed day had arrived. But if you have to get your first haircut, you might as well do it in style -- or, in Miles' case, in a firetruck chair.
Even so, it didn't go without some wailing and gnashing of teeth... but you won't see those pictures because the photographer had to put down his camera and wrestle with his subject.
But when it was all over, Miles was still in the driver's seat.