When Parents Get Their Hair Cut

The last time I got my hair cut, it was the morning of my PhD graduation ceremony in May. When D saw me at our celebratory supper, she cried.

This past weekend, LePapa got a haircut that was a thousand times more radical (i.e. a bigger change) than mine. We prepped D for days in advance. Her concern was both heart-breaking and comical: "I don't want Papa to cut his hair because then I'll think he's somebody else."

But she has accepted it with grace. In fact, she didn't really comment on it at all until LePapa asked her what she thought of it, at which point she explained, "I know it's you because your voice is the same."

I'm pretty sure I know the inner workings of her mind and that this comment relates to a scene in Shrek 2 when Prince Charming tries to convince Fiona that he is the non-ogre version of Shrek, and Fiona says, "But what happened to your voice?"

(P.S. You can see how the Shrek obsession has made its way into my blog title: if baby A has the "fontanelle" then D is most certainly Princess Fiona!)