In case you haven't noticed from recent photos, my kids are vaguely starting to resemble Chewbacca. They are both overdue for haircuts.
For the first few years of Max's life, my mother-in-law did the job, and while I appreciate the fact that Grandma Tina wanted to help she tended to make Max look like a serial killer (picture the one Javier Bardem played in No Country For Old Men). Which I'm pretty sure is worse than looking like Chewbacca. Seriously, Max would end up with these lopsided, choppy, crazy-seeming bangs.
I started taking him to this kiddie salon by our house that is decked out with barber chairs shaped like cars. Alas, even the truck chair isn't enough to distract Max, he wigs out and bawls and fidgets on my lap as the haircutter tries to do her job.
Max "enjoying" his first professional cut. He did not get highlights.
Sabrina's hair takes forever to grow. We didn't even take her to the kiddie salon till this past summer.
She seemed rather dubious about the whole haircut thing.
So, I don't particularly enjoy taking them for haircuts, because they most definitely don't enjoy getting them. Maybe I should just stick with Grandma Tina. That serial-killer style isn't so bad, is it?
