We got the hairs cut. Such little men. Sitting on my lap and waiting for the cool spray of water, the snip snip of the scissors and the pressure of the hand tilting their head forward. They play along for the most part. Their last cut sits in their memory banks still. No blood- no real damage- just oohs and ahhs when we are through, so they're still in. Thank goodness we get to go to Sandra's for their cuts. I couldn't imagine plopping them in the big barber chair, handing them a magazine, dowsing them in the steam of a hot towel and buzzing them clean. I can wait for that.
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