It had become one of his most prominent features, overshadowing other noteworthies like his eyes and his cheeks.
So this afternoon we went to see a friend of my father's, Robert Hoeft, who also happens to be a barber. Eliot handled the loss of his locks like the little man that he is with only a few tears and a few more howls.
He received a certificate with a bit of golden tress taped to it (which will promptly go in the scrap book) and was good to go.
To celebrate we took him to our favorite gelato shop here in town. Now, as he grows into his new role as big brother he'll be prepared to look the part.