All of you know how Super Toddler can be. For a refresher, check out this post; it introduces you to the wild child of the Awkward clan. If it is possible, he is even more delightfully outrageous these days. He has been talking more and his inner world is every bit as spunky and gleeful as I thought it might be. However, his hair is starting to match his wild ways:
Now, I know that I could let him be a hippie child if I wanted. After all, this is Ann Arbor. However, it is also summer and the poor thing is starting to resemble a poodle stuck in a sauna. I decide to bite the bullet and schedule a hair appointment for him.
What's that, my frugal friends? Why am I not cutting it myself? Ah, well, let me tell you a little story: Once upon a time, Super Preschooler was nearly 2 years old and finally ready for a haircut. Super P. resembled Professor X from birth until then, so no haircuts had been needed. Awkward Dad proudly bought a pair of clippers, spread a plastic sheet on the dining room floor, placed Super Preschooler, in his high chair, in the middle of it, and commenced clipping. To this day, I do not know if it was the inexperience, the slippery plastic sheet, or the screaming emanating from the high chair (most likely all three), but Awkward Dad slipped, knocked the high chair, with the heir to the Awkward line still screaming within, directly onto me, who was trying to capture a sweet and endearing picture for his baby book, and then clippered right through the power cord. Call it trauma. Call it lazy. Whatever it is, we have let other people cut the Supers' hair since then. Leave me alone, I use coupons!
So, Super Preschooler has been an angel at every haircut since his second haircut. He just goes with Awkward Dad and behaves like a teeny tiny old man:
Personally, I like the critical head-cocked-to-the-side, like he is really considering asking her to take more off by the ears. He sits stone still, moves when they ask him, and politely thanks them for the balloons and suckers they lavish on him. Emboldened by this behavior, we didn't panic at all when Super Toddler arrived looking like a refegee from Woodstock:
We took him to Awkward Dad's Super Cuts before his first birthday. Oh, naive Awkwards....
Readers, I am serious when I tell you, I really didn't know that a child of 11 months could have such a strong right hook. Now, Awkward Dad likes his Super Cuts, and his Super Cuts likes him. They really adore Super Preschooler, but after Super Toddler's unique expressions of displeasure, they were not going to serve the Awkward Family without endangering their lives and building. I think the options were pretty clear. We had to find a new place for Super Toddler's haircuts. And a gym for him to train in.
Oh Readers, I hate to leave you hanging like that! But if the noises coming from the living room are to be believed, we are at war and I better go deal with some lego-projectiles before someone loses an eye. Back soon to let you know how the whole cutting of Super Toddler's hair went. I bet you can guess, and know this, we are really lucky that we didn't enter any pagan temples today.