First Barber Visit

With clippers buzzing by my ear,
I sit still, feeling a little fear,
My mom says, “Don’t worry, my dear,
It’s time for your first haircut, my sweet pioneer.”

I look in the mirror, my hair so long,
It’s always been there, where I belong,
But it’s time to cut it, says my mom,
To make me look neat, tidy, and strong.

The barber comes, with scissors and comb,
He asks what I want, as I sit like a gnome,
I look up, and say, “I want to look like a grown-up,
But please don’t cut my hair too short, that’s my hope.”

Snip, snip, goes the scissors,
I feel the hair fall on my shoulders,
I close my eyes, feeling a little nervous,
But my mom’s hand holds mine, reassuring and tender.

The haircut is done, and I open my eyes,
I look in the mirror, with a big surprise,
I see a new me, with a fresh new style,
I feel so grown-up, with a big, happy smile.

I run my fingers through my hair,
Feeling the softness and the air,
I thank the barber, for his care,
And my mom, for being there.

Getting my first haircut was an adventure,
A little scary, but a moment to treasure,
I feel so proud, so brave, so sure,
A kid with a new look, ready to explore.

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