Mama Scissorhands Part 2: Revenge of the Toddler

Some of you might remember an earlier post about the traumatic experience that occurred while cutting my middle son's hair. If you don't know what I am referring to, check out this post.

With Thanksgiving right around the corner, I decided to finally get some help in straightening out my little one's locks, mainly because he would be meeting some out-of-state family members for the first time. While my heart was saying, "save your money, do it yourself," my brain was saying, "bring him to Snip-its, you stink at cutting hair." In this case, my brain won the argument.

I planned the trip accordingly, made sure my guy was fed and happy, and I even managed to pack my camera, so I could capture these sweet moments of his first real haircut. We entered Snip-its, or as I like to call it, Disney World Hair Salon, without the slightest hitch. This is where it all went wrong.

I didn't see it coming. My baby proceeded to wander through the maze of brightly colored chairs and toys, grabbing at things left and right. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Unfortunately, the fun stopped there. The minute we strapped him in the bright pink hair chair and handed him a dum-dum, he began to throw the biggest fit known to man.

Trying to appease the wailing and thrashing of my son, the women in the salon began performing from their great bag of tricks. Bubbles, lollipops, videos, even a balloon...nothing worked. The girl with the scissors began to cut his hair, and just maneuvered this way and that attempting to salvage some sort of decent cut. Her friends continued to try to sweet talk my screaming baby, while I snapped some pictures. (Ah...for the sake of the scrapbook.)

Approximately 4 minutes later the nice girl asked me if it was okay, and proceeded to release my tortured baby from his chair. I surveyed his hair quickly and nodded that it was indeed acceptable. I must admit, that while I was wiping the tears from his cheeks, I noticed that my son had a bit of blood trickled on his little ear. That's right people, she cut his ear. For the time being, I dismissed the injury, and went on to pay the girl for the haircut, as I am not one to make a big scene and make a girl feel bad. I knew she didn't see the cut, and it was obviously a challenging client. I imagine it was somewhat like trying to put a dress on a cat. And from my experience, that ain't easy.

After going on with the day and pondering it awhile, I have come to the conclusion that I actually am pretty upset about that little cut on his ear. I mean, if I had wanted someone to cut his ear while cutting his hair, I would've cut his hair myself. Isn't that the whole reason for the hair salon? You pretty much expect that they won't do a worse job, or even an equal job, as you, isn't that right? I paid $14.95, for some lady to snip my baby's ear, when frankly I could've snipped it myself. It's crazy! And on top of it all...I tipped her. That's right,the insanity goes like this, "hey you, yes,you managed to somewhat even out my baby's bowl head, but you did happen to snip a little piece of his earlobe. Ya know what, it's okay...here's an extra two bucks, go buy yourself a cup of joe...on me!" And to top it off, I'll probably end up going back there one day, when he needs another haircut! It's crazy I tell you! Snip-its...they get you in with the flashy colors and goofy prizes...they really ought to call it Snip-you. Maybe it's time I break out my own chicken shears again.