Here’s Naomi, with all her hair intact. It’s not thick, but it was getting rather long.

Enter cheeky big brother Milo. Here he’s trying out the big plastic saucer-of-amusement we borrowed from the toy library for Naomi. He used to be all keen on being a “Big Boy,” but tonight when I told him that big boys don’t need pacifiers he corrected me, saying he was a LITTLE boy. Well, little or big, he was tall enough to reach over the side of Naomi’s bassinet and do a number on the front of her hair with his scissors.  I lashed out with the classic parental rhetorical statement: “WHAT are you doing?!”  “I’m just cutting Naomi’s hair,” he informed me.  I hadn’t thought to tell him that hair cutting was a Mommy-only job, and he obviously didn’t realize the seriousness of the offense.  Hopefully he does now.

Here’s Naomi after Milo’s chop job. I was just thinking that her hair was worthy of a tiny little barrette, but I guess that will have to wait.

Milo lost his scissors for the rest of the day, consequence of his hair-cutting stunt, but still gained the big boy bed. Does that make it two steps forward and one step back? He didn’t have any sadness parting with his crib.  I’d like to think that’s because of his new big boy bed quilt that he watched me make, but it’s more likely just a credit to his easy-going nature.