The business of getting his haircut has never been an endeavor that Tukes calls fun. Past haircuts have been accompanied with a fair amount of terror, a great deal of screaming and head shaking, and, yes, there was even one time when he was kicked out of the haircut chair.For the past year my dear next door neighbor (whom I've often thought possesses heroic powers) has neatly trimmed Tukes' hair when it has gotten shaggy. But, the time came. I couldn't ask my neighbor again... she has her own family to care for and a busy day job. It was time to do the deed for real, time for the barbershop.
Facing a bit of terror and a lot of two year old obstinance, the professor took Tukes downtown yesterday -- we both knew that it would take a father's kind yet authoritative presence to accomplish the task at hand. Miss Jeannie did a great job, smacking gum and talking pleasantly while clipping away. Yes, there were tears and screams but eventually he settled down. Three lollipops later and a congratulatory trip to the fire station Tukes is now neatly trimmed. I'm happy to be able to see his blue eyes again.
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