Haircut from Hell

Yesterday I made the mistake of taking the boys to the local salon for a haircut. I decided it was time to break away from the overpriced kids haircut place that we had been coerced into since that very first haircut. The 7-year-old who was never a big fan of haircuts was not happy with this news. Although he was too big to squeeze into the largest jeep car at the last haircut, he would rather sit in a metal jeep with his legs up to his ears for the chance to play a video game with scissors to his head. While I thought I could ease him into the haircut with his Ipod as a compromise, he blew any chance for screen time when I caught him carrying his brother sideways and almost cracking a rib.

After we arrived at the salon, the 4-year-old went first. He sat on a big red cushion and had a huge smile on his face. He didn’t have any screen and was perfectly content. Wow, this may work out after all. The 7-year-old kept himself busy spinning on the chairs, pretending to put his head under the dryer, and pumping up and down the spare chairs. After about ten minutes of spinning and realizing the dryers were not so fun while turned off, boredom set in. I couldn’t go back on my no screen time promise so I spent the next twenty minutes hearing him complaining and whining and occasionally regaining interest  in spinning on the chairs. Now I know why the kid place haircuts are over in ten minutes. The two stylists, the one poor customer, and me were desperately looking for a booze cart to be wheeled out of the back room by the time the 4-year-old haircut was over. Finally, I thought, one down and one to go. Wrong again.

The stylist thought the 7-year-old needed a real shampoo and not just a spray down after seeing his curls and all the knots. This sounded great to me until the 4-year-old got hysterical that he had not qualified for a real shampoo. He launched into a ten minute tantrum where I seriously wanted to crawl into a hole. The stylist finally caved (probably because her head was going to explode) and said he could have a shampoo after she finished. This satisfied him and the crying magically stopped.

Since this was the first time the 7-year-old was getting cut without a screen, I knew it would be bad, but nothing could prepare me for the next 30 minutes of my life. There was a lot of yelling, not keeping his head still, insults to the stylist how this was the worse haircut of his life, and how I was a horrible mother for making him come here.

By the time the haircut was over, I wanted to run out of there, but we still had the 4-year-old shampoo. Fine, perhaps we could end on a good note and redeem ourselves. The 4-year-old sat back in the chair, acting all grown up, and again a smile from ear to ear. The stylist warned him to not sit up as the water would spill everywhere if he did. He agreed, still all smiles. After a good 60 seconds of happiness, it was all over. The water was too hot, he started screaming, then he sat up, water spilled everywhere and his clothes were drenched. I am not sure why the stylist did not give him a towel, but imagine in her flustered and beaten down state of mind, she was not thinking about anything but how quickly she could get us the hell out of there.

After the  full body blow dry and a huge tip, we left there. I came home and had a well deserved glass of wine and reluctantly told my husband we would be going back to KidSnips.