The truck rumbles up the steep driveway and Little One is giddy with excitement.
He doesn’t know where we are, but that hardly matters to this 3-year-old.
“Let’s go daddy!” he yells.
After getting unbuckled, he then utters, “Where are we going?”
“Daddy needs a haircut,” Daytime Dad responds.
“I want a haircut, too!” Little One replies.
“Um, not today,” Daytime Dad says.
“Why, daddy?” Little One asks.
Daytime Dad ponders explaining that there are (at least) two things you don’t do to Expecting Mom: One, tell her she looks bigger, but in a good way; and, two, take Little One to a haircut without her.
In the interest of full disclosure, Expecting Mom was warned in advance that Little One may indeed find himself in the Big Chair for a fresh cut. She (warily) provided instructions on Little One’s haircut, and they went something like this:
• Make sure the bangs don’t get cut.
• We like the length of his hair.
• Tell her to feather it like Bon Jovi.
Feather it like Bon Jovi?
Daytime Dad decides that maybe Little One’s haircut could wait. We walk into the small studio, greet the hair artist and Little One jumps into the chair.
“I want a haircut!” he bellows with a laugh.
And Little One is in dire need of a trim, as evidenced by the blonde bangs that curl over his brown eyes.
Daytime Dad makes the executive decision: Little One will get his haircut.
“How should I do it?” the hairdresser asks.
“Don’t cut it too short because we do like it longer than shorter,” Daytime Dad says.
“OK,” she replies, although it’s clear she’s more than just a little confused.
“You know, feather it like Bon Jovi.”
The hairdresser goes to work and Daytime Dad waits his turn, wondering/fearing what his Little One will soon look like.
In the time it takes a 3-year-old to suck down a coconut lollipop, the haircut is complete.
The bangs are intact, the wild mop is tamed and, equally important, he looks nothing like Bon Jovi.