 Ever since we took the boy to the nice lady who cuts our hair (to rid him once and for all of the damned kindermullet), we have been annoyed by how quickly it returns. And then we have to ask the nice lady all over again to try to trim the pelt of a squirming, unhappy little creature without any notion to tolerate a stranger with scissors getting anywhere near him. Over the holidays, we were at my mother-in-law's house and my wife bought a pair of those layering scissors and we decided to give the boy's hair a trim. We gave him a lollipop and put on some youtube videos and voila, a haircut without the embarrassing squirming and screaming performance. With candy and television to distract him, he didn't give a damn what we did to his hair. In fact, the candy and television might have been the best thing about his week. |
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The only thing I'm going to do differently next time is figure out a way to raise him up so his head is more level with mine. And not wear the stupid bearasus shirt if my wife takes pictures.
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