Three boys and a Bathroom: The barber shop rules

With a small house, and an even smaller bathroom, it’s a wonder my husband can open up the bathroom “barber shop” every other week. I usually try to avoid this male bonding experience when I can, but sometimes it’s unavoidable as my husband (a.k.a the in-house master barber) often needs a helping hand whipping those little boys’ heads into shape. 

Generally haircuts are an all out battle with our 2-year-old, but we’ve become crafty parents, masters at distraction (music, singing, even letting him hold the clippers and pretend to cut Elmo’s hair).  And even with all those tricks up our sleeve, it really is an terrible task trying to get that squirmy little boy to sit still long enough for a gentle peeling of his hair. We don’t cut much, still, the theatrical event is an exercise in patience, collaboration, and sheer wit.

My oldest on the other hand, is an old pro at receiving a haircut, he’s been sitting for haircuts for years now. He sits with his action figures in hand and just let’s the clippers glide right over his head—easy. I’d like to think that he enjoys this bit of pampering–this pseudo barbershop boy bonding experience, but I’m never quite sure.

Anyway, the other day during barbershop hours I took a peek inside at what looked like a chaotic mess filled with high-pitched buzzing and dark curly clippings all over the floor. Standing there I decided my help was not needed in that already tight space so I got away while the gettin’ was good–left those boys to their own devices.

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Categories: Misc.

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