Haircut Day.

Every 3rd or 4th Saturday is Haircut Day. I used to cut J's hair at home, but it became a major hypertension-inducing ordeal requiring wine, Excedrin, and therapy to recover from. I've had lots of well-meaning suggestions about cutting J's hair at home, including bribery (he gets a treat every time afterwards), physically holding him down (how does that help?), cutting his hair in front of the TV (not enough distraction from the clippers buzzing near his ears), punishment (no, no, no, again I don't see how that would help), and even one childless person who actually recommended sedation (briefly considered then I came to my senses and realized he's not one of my cat patients getting groomed LOL). Of course I also have lots of people telling me to just let it grow out. Okay, people, here's the thing. J, like his parents, is a black person. When his hair grows out, it becomes a little afro. Which I have to comb out. Which, as I said before, induces blood-curdling screams that make my blood pressure go up. I'm not a fan of cornrows on little boys, so I prefer to just keep it short and avoid having to deal with it. Thankfully J is now old enough to go the barbershop with Daddy, so off they go about once a month, or when J's hair starts looking "like a werewolf" (TH's phrase), whichever comes first.


So anyway, today was Haircut Day. We tried to talk it up as soon as he was out of bed: "J, guess what? Today you get to go to the barbershop with Daddy!! And then maybe you'll get a lollipop like last time, and you and Daddy can go to the park afterwards! Won't that be FUN??" He didn't fall for it. He actually put his hands on top of his head and said, "No haircut, Mommy." And then he ran down the hall back into his room still covering his head, and slammed his door. And then kicked the door, in case we didn't get it. 30 minutes later, he was dressed and in the car, screaming the entire time "No haircut! NO HAIRCUT!! NOOOO HAIRCUUUUUUT!! MOMMY COME TOO!!" I felt terrible. But it had to be done, so off they went.

I had the entire morning to myself, which is one reason I love Haircut Day despite the emotional trauma. This morning I managed to run 4 miles, take a long luxurious shower, make a real breakfast, read my latest Entertainment Weekly and my Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association, walk the puppy, and watch about half of the first Lord of the Rings movie before J and TH came home. And you know what? Haircut Day went well for them, too. Surprisingly, for the first time J didn't cry ONE SINGLE TIME while getting his hair cut. According to TH he actually had a great time hanging out with "the guys" at the barbershop and learning to roll dice (hmmm. No comment on that one.) After getting their haircut J and Daddy went to McDonald's for breakfast and then to the park. J was so worn out after Haircut Day that he asked for a bowl of oatmeal for lunch and has been asleep for the past hour.

I got a relaxing morning, and TH got to spend some real "boys time" with J. I'm thinking maybe Haircut Day should be every week.