I've been hearing about these children's salons where kids can sit in a car or truck while they get their hair cut. But first Adam wanted to take Isaac on a father-son outing to his old-school barber shop.
It was like the scene in Mary Poppins where the father takes the kids to the bank: a fascinating peek into a different world with odd characters, but also stiff, geriatric, harsh, and not a kid in sight. The barbers treated Isaac with cordial formality, offering haircuts and good intentions. A few stooped customers hobbled in the door for their Saturday cuts, and an NFL game played on an old TV. Isaac, and even Jonah in his carrier, stared wide-eyed around the small room. But any attempt to get Isaac in his chair was met with: "Nooooooo." When the owner started suggesting ways to trick Isaac into getting his hair cut, I decided it was time to go. The boys and I went to wait in the car while Adam got his hair cut alone. I nursed Jonah; Isaac "drove."
However, Isaac's hair, a mass of yellow curls in rain or humidity, had become a mass of coarse tangles in Colorado's dry air. The tangles were getting longer and messier, and it was time to cut them.
So on a Friday afternoon when Isaac woke up early from his nap, I suggested a haircut at a different place - where he'd get to drive a car while they cut his hair. He listened and then agreed, restating to make sure I understood: "Isaac get hair cut at different place. NOT barber shop."
So the boys and I drove to the fancy place in Cherry Creek. Free parking was a good start. When we walked in, I knew we were in the right place. All the chairs were vehicles, a cartoon movie was playing on TV (a treat in itself, as there is still no TV-watching in our house outside of basketball season), and the whole place was cheery and colorful. Isaac ran ahead of me and climbed into the fire truck, took the wheel...heaven. The shot above can serve as the "before" picture.
The girl who cut Isaac's hair was young and knew how to handle kids - and their parents. When Isaac got scared and started to protest again, she distracted him handily. She asked me before offering candy (no, sorry Isaac) or asking about trick-or-treating. And so Isaac drove the fire truck while the crazy locks fell away.
I forgot to take an "after" picture, but the picture above shows his hair almost finished. She was done in 10 minutes - the length of a typical toddler attention span in their salon, she explained.
After the haircut, it was time for our Friday night dinner out! We went to my favorite (non fine-dining) restaurant in town, a large, Mexican factory of a place called Benny's - great food, fun atmosphere, and the feeling of a Denver institution. I love this place, and so does Isaac. He doesn't care where we go to dinner as long as it's a "rice beans restaurant." Most nights, I feel the same way.
Above, Isaac is cooking dinner in the "ovens" while we wait for a table.
These are cell phone pictures and are not the best, but still worth adding to the record of daily life.
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