I love your hair. It's messy and cute. But dearest little girl, it gets in your eyes, which I love even more than your hair. I don't want to cut your hair. Every curl on your head is dear to me. But if you keep fighting every headband, hairtie and hat that goes on your head in my vain efforts to unveil your brown sugar eyes, I'm going to cave and take a pair of scissors to your bouncy locks, and then I'm going to be sad. Sad because my baby just received her first haircut. Sad because I can't stop your hair from growing, or your feet for that matter. Sad because none of us are getting any younger. Seriously, can you give me a break?