See? I’m back! I didn’t lie …
One of the reasons I was gone so long was because I took one whole week off work for the Monkey’s birthday. It just seemed right, and we had an AWESOME time. As part of the Monkey-Palooza birthday week, the Hubbs and I took the little guy to get his first hair cut.
As you can see from the image on the left, he needed it. And that was a GOOD hair day. The Hubbs was referring to the Monkey as “Light-Socket Boy” for months, because whenever he’d wake up in the morning, his bed head resembled … well … someone who had stuck their finger in a light socket.
So here’s the background: We took the Monkey to see the lady who has been cutting my little brother’s hair for … at least 20 years. She’s great with kids, and she’s quick.
My dad originally scoffed at me for wanting to go to an actual barber for this experience. My reply was that IF the Monkey freaked out, I’d lose my nerve and he’d end up with a half-finished bowl cut. You know, cause I rock the Asian pride that way. Either that, or I’d scalp him or cut of the top of one ear and he’s go through elementary school as “Elf Boy.”
And ya’ll know I just couldn’t do THAT to him. So off to the barber we went. In the first picture, we have the classic barber cape being secured to me and the Monkey. Note his expression. He’s not sure about her. He’s giving her “The big eyes”. Also note the binky. The clasped toy — which, by the way, I have NO idea how he got it all the way to the barber because it’s a TUB TOY that isn’t supposed to leave the tub. So Mr. Octopus-Man got to witness the whole shebang.
“OHMYGAWD she’s touching me! Make her stop! It hurts?! IT HURTS!” Oh, if you want what he literally said?
The barber had given him a blue comb to play with while she combed his hair. Truthfully, he was fine while she wet his hair down. Fine while she combed his hair. But the SECOND she touched those scissors to his hair? Nuclear meltdown. He was vigorously shaking his head from side to side. Bobbing and weaving to avoid the shears. He was quick like a butterfly, but couldn’t sting (or run) because I had my arms locked around his waist.
I’d like to take this opportunity to say that I WAS RIGHT, and that if he had pulled this when I was cutting his hair, he would still look like Shaggy from Scooby Doo.
“How could you let this happen, Momma? I thought you LOVED ME! Mean Mommy! Mean Mommy!”
The pleading expression. The eyebrows. Mr. Octopus-Man is completely upside down. (I’m actually surprised he’s still around at this point.) Me cajoling him with “Oh, you’re FINE. Really!” is SO not working. In terms of what he actually said? It was just one long stream — and it consisted of one word that he choked out between huge sobs:
“Momma … momma … momma …”
Why yes, I DID feel rather heartless by not heeding him. Thank you very much for asking …
And see? It wasn’t so bad after all! He’s still in one piece. The binky magically stayed in his mouth the entire time. Mr. Octopus-Man is right-side up again. The evil barber lady is no longer touching his head …
All is well with the world once more!
And I’m totally biased, but look at how FREAKING cute he is! Just look! He’s a little MAN now! He won’t have to blink his bangs out of his eyes anymore! And for the record, he’s had girls cooing at him and making eyes at him since he got the haircut, so it was DEFINITELY a good move.
As for the aftermath, it turns out that I haven’t scarred him for life. He doesn’t hate me. He still loves me. Internet, I give you FORGIVENESS (and quite possibly relief):