I gave Jiushu a haircut yesterday. The same haircut I give my other men. You know, with the clippers. Dad held him in his lap, and that brave kid of ours didn't even cry.
We decided to cut his hair partly because J has a super sweaty noggin, and partly because he came to us with a semi "bowl" haircut with obvious scissor lines which I was eager to correct. His hair would get all Don King on top, especially after a nap, and I was seriously a little concerned about how oddly shaped and large his head looked. Maybe it's not so crazy to say that after his new cut, Jiushu looked better, cuter...more like...ours. There's something strongly parental about that authority to cut, or not cut, your own kids' hair anyway you want. What's in a haircut? A lot more than meets the eye.