The Haircut

So I took Joe for his first haircut yesterday. He was getting kind of shaggy, but I have to admit that I was a little sad to take him.

They have a kids haircut place in the mall near us. They have little cars to sit in, movies to watch etc. In the first place, Joe WOULD NOT sit in the firetruck.

Maybe he was traumatized from our Six Flags trip the day before. So I sat with him on my lap, he ripped that cape off at least 5 times. They assigned us to this older lady with a think accent. She continued to put it on him. Then she kept telling Joe, "It won't hurt." I'm thinking ok lady, he doesn't get it but whatever and he is not going to wear that cape. SO I find myself holding down his arms because he is swatting at the scissors and comb and crying hysterically.

I thought it should have been apparent, but I finally mentioned that it was his first haircut. The lady asks how old he is, and I say 1. She looks shocked, and says "I thought he was 3." Now come on! I know he looks big, but 3? Really? He wasn't talking, couldn't walk...and you think he is 3. Not to mention that if he was 3 and acting that way, I would have been mortified...

Finally another lady comes over and kind of took over, Joe seemed to settle down...maybe he just didn't like this other lady? But I still had to hold him in for a while. I had Emily take a picture, or I would have had none of his big haircut!

So when it was finally all finished, they took his picture, but we put him in the fire truck so as to appear that he calmly sat there the entire time. You can see he is still a little stunned.

Finally, he was plenty happy to sit in that damn fire truck and ring the bell. Every once and a while he pulls at his hair, almost as if to check if anything is going on up there or maybe wonders what the heck happened to it. But all in all it turned out well.