The last time we took our boys to get their hair cuts at the "kid cutter" place it dawned on me...this was not a place where children's hair was cut. This was a toy store, a DVD preview store, and, oh by the way, they happen to have a few people equipped with scissors. Those wearing aprons would cut your kids hair in 30 seconds after enticing them with some random movie--one that you'd probably rather they not watch in the first place.
And let's be clear...no parent, not even on their best parenting-game-day, would be seen walking out of those specialty kid-cutters without a plastic toy that would be lucky to stay intact long enough to make the drive home without breaking.
So on our recent vacation, we were more than pleased to take our boys to a real Barbershop. You might remember those types of establishments...they are staffed with pleasant gentlemen who will treat your lad like a prince. They will not entice them into the seat with multi-media props. They will, however, talk with them. They'll engaged them in conversation and in the process, give them a marvelous hair-cut.
This gave me pause for thought on how much I really do prefer the Barbershop experience.
Reason #1.
Instead of looking at a DVD the whole time, they actually admire their "before" locks because they are looking into a mirror instead of a t.v. screen.
After...
What makes a hair cut complete? The lollipop, of course. But that's not all at a Barbershop...
Reason #2. At a Barbershop, the finishing touch is the soft brush of the talcum powder...instead of the requisite toy purchase.
Reason #3. Who doesn't like to get their hair cut from cool guys from New Jersey?
When all is said and done--wet and combed, cut and brushed--I still find myself admiring their locks scattered on the ground beneath them. At ages 7 and 4, I no longer save them in tiny ziploc bags like those first precious curls, but I do find that I still have to take a quick shot. Our Barbers understood. They are parents, too.
The rite of passage of a grown-up hair cut and the ritual of becoming little men...well, in a Barbershop you actually have the quiet to appreciate these moments--instead of battling over whether to buy the plastic tadpole or the styrofoam sword as you are trying to check-out.
Two haircuts, 52 photos, and zero meltdowns. Sounds like a new tradition in the making.
