I remember being small enough to lie down on the kitchen counter, towel underneath my neck, hair draping into the sink as my mother maneuvered the sink nozzle to wet my hair. What followed was a meticulous hair cut...usually inspired by whatever gymnast or popstar I was trying to emulate. And aside from one small mis-step (aka Kristy Phillips haircut, circa 1984) my hair looked good. I don't have any memories of a hair salon until I was in college. I love that my mom is continuing the tradition with my daughters. She knows how to move swiftly with the scissors without maiming...great for a busy one year old. Here is Viv at her first cut. We decided the hair co-mingling with her runny nose was not her best look. Hooray for bangs.