We took Aidan for haircut #2 yesterday afternoon.

In retrospect, maybe we shouldn’t have done it when he was so tired. Despite my best efforts, he didn’t get a nap yesterday. Not for a lack of trying, though. Also not for a lack of needing. He just wouldn’t go to sleep. Anyway, we went for haircuts around 4. The same barber who cut his hair last time was there, and getting him onto the kiddy bench wasn’t that difficult. The trouble started when the apron was placed over him.

And, by “trouble” I mean crying.

So, we tried a different approach. I sat in the chair, and Aidan sat on my lap. Well, that was sorta ok. Until the clippers turned on. Then the flight or fight instinct kicked in. Fortunately it was mostly the flight instinct, but that meant that it took both Gwen and I to hold him more or less still (well, actually a whole lot less than more) while the barber tried to cut his hair. For the whole experience, Aidan cried, shrieked, and fought to escape. The barber showed remarkable patience.

After trimming what he could, Aidan fled with Gwen while I got my hair cut. Aidan cuddled with Gwen for almost the whole time, but eventually started showing interest in the other people who were there getting their hair cut, and interest in what was being done to them.

Maybe we should look into cutting his hair ourselves. For the sake of the barber and his customers.