As we waited patiently, I observed a little boy happily licking his sucker as his long blond strands fell to the black and white checkered tile floor. I explained to my son that he too would soon be able to sit on the big black leather chair with a big red lollipop in hand. He grinned with delight and lifted his arms to the chair as if he couldn't wait a second longer. Soon after, we were called up. After some quick greetings and small talk, our Barber, Mr. S got to business. He placed a rather large "cape" or "big-boy bib" as he called it over Greyson and tied it around his neck and it began.... He began crying. Not just a whiny "can-I-get-down-now?" cry, but a screeching at the top of his lungs, foaming at the mouth, body aerobics kind of scene. Mind you, no scissors were even in sight yet! I pulled out his beloved miniature sized wooden Thomas train, I gave him my car keys, and even bribed him with the lollipop. All of course, without success.
Mr. S.'s shop quickly filled up with every seat taken. I felt the impending pressure on Mr. S to move along quickly. I gained my composure and held him down tightly in the chair with no room for wiggles as the cutting began. As I held tighter, his flailing arms and legs kicked harder and faster. His face now the reddest shade of red I have ever seen. He cried so hard he held his breath for
Through the screaming, gagging and kicking, I thought back to the countless times I had to hold down children in the ER for administering medications, shots and sutures. In that moment, I couldn't help but feel a connection with all of "those mom's" who seemed they couldn't "hold it together" or even those that asked us to "be more gentle" as I held their child's face while sutures were being placed centimeters above their eye.
Ahh, that life-comes-full-circle theme keeps popping up everywhere... And in that moment, I made peace with those poor moms I considered "weak" and with the memories of my past life as a "get the job done" persona, and I did what this new me had to do. I removed him from the chair, hugged him tightly and thanked Mr. S for a job well done despite the unfinished business. We didn't get a photo, or a certificate and his hair....well, lets just say it wouldn't win any hair-cut contests.