Today, Aidan had his first real haircut.
We weren’t thinking the clearest, so we don’t have a good “before” picture, but as a reminder, here’s what he looked like a week ago:
We brought him to the same barber I’ve been going to since I’ve lived in Vancouver. I needed a hair cut, and Aidan needed a hair cut, so it seemed like a good idea.
We brought Aidan into the barber’s, which looked busy, but it turns out there were a number of people waiting for others getting their hair cut, and those in the chairs were soon finished too. So, in short order, we had Aidan sitting on a booster seat in the chair. Not how I thought it was going to go down … I though I would have to hold him in my lap, and I wasn’t too sure as to how that was going to work for cutting the back of his head.
Aidan, of course, likes his new vantage point, since there are tons of mirrors, and there’s almost nothing Aidan likes doing more than looking in mirrors. I’m not saying he’s vain, I’m sure he just appreciates the physics of light.
Anyway, Aidan’s happiness starts to wane when the biggest bib he’s ever seen is placed over him. Then, with the boy clutching Daddy’s hand, and with Mommy trying to capture his attention, the barber goes to work.
We’ve had several discussions about how to get his hair cut, and so when asked by the barber, we meekly say, “Well, you know, it has to be out of his eyes, and those wings over the ears have to go, and it *is* too long in the back …”. He looks appraisingly at us, and sets out, doing some cutting and trimming with his scissors.
After a short while (Aidan hasn’t minded this, so far, despite his proximity to a man he doesn’t know … usually a recipe for the biggest case of shyness you’ve ever seen) the barber stops, looks at us, and asks if it’s short enough. We look at each other and murmur that well, perhaps it should be shorter.
At which point, the barber pulls out his electric clippers and really sets to work. He wets Aidan’s hair down by spraying his own hand with a water bottle and then rubbing it through Aidan’s hair. The scissors are going, the clippers are going, and slowly, Aidan is becoming less thrilled with the whole procedure. It’s not panic stations yet, but there are some tentative cries of discomfort. It helps to have Mommy taking most of the boy’s attention, and the boy even lets her manipulate his head so that the barber can get at his neck. It took longer than I expected, but in the end, it went much better than I expected. Both Mommy and Boy made it through without too many tears.
And, well. I dare say he cleans up pretty good.