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I took Sam to Supercuts for a haircut today. Total nightmare. Before the clippers even made an appearance, he was clinging to me like a baby koala and screaming full blast. And when the scissors came out, hoo baby, things got ugly.

Luckily the hairdresser had the patience of a saint . . . and the hands of a surgeon, because the way Sam was thrashing around, I'm surprised he didn't lose an ear. And meanwhile, I'm sweating my ass off under the black plastic cape she put over us, and getting coated with the tear-soaked hair falling off of the baby.

And then as soon as she finished, and said, "All done," the tears ceased. Sam climbed down and very calmly walked to the front of his store, where he waited for his balloon.

Or, "Ba-woon," as he called it, and then smiled charmingly at all of the women who were fawning over his new do, while I overtipped the stylist.

This is the crap they don't tell you about when they hand the baby over at the hospital.

Posted 08 June 2005 at 01:52 PM