Don't Make Me Go!

Raising boys means that you sometimes have to go where you otherwise would never go.

One such place, the barber. (please read this as though I were Jerry talking about Newman)

I really dread going to the barber. I even subject the boys to my pathetic attempts at wielding the clippers in hopes of prolonging the inevitable next trip to ... the barber.

It all started about 5 years ago...

Picture it, townie barber shop decked to the hilt in Boston sport paraphernalia. In walks a mother with her 2+ year old son. Mother is prepared with toys and a drink to entertain young son. What this poor unsuspecting mother does not know, is that she needed to plan over an hours worth of diversions. One barber shop in town - you take a number like at a deli and an hours wait is considered pretty quick!
The moment she walked in, glances were exchanged between the men. Conversations are obviously being redirected. While woman struggles to keep child amused, more glances and smug smiles are exchange. Comments about wives, girlfriends and the 'inferior sex' in general are being tossed about as woman wishes she could body check the next beer bellied client from his spot - get child's hair cut done and get out!!
After what seems like an eternity in testosterone hell, their number is called.
Son is lifted onto the cute horse seat in preparation for the cut to begin. Mother explains to barber (again!) that son has sensory integration issues. (hate the sound of nails on a chalk board? imagine that all loud sounds are amplified and the annoyance you feel with that sound is multiplied a hundred times over and you'll get the idea of what it is to have auditory sensory issues.) The child wont freak out, but does squirm and wince. Mother assures barber that she'll be happy with him just doing the best he can - not worried about imperfections due to squirmy child.
Cut begins.... squirming begins (again, not crying or trying to get up - I've totally seen worse!) chastising begins... "Come on buddy - this is nothing".."Stop acting like a baby and sit still".. to the mother "Just tell him to not move his head"...
There's now an murmur through the shop that begins increasing in volume making situation even more unbearable....

This uncomfortable situation has been played out many a time over the last several years. Not always the same circumstances (son #1 has mostly outgrown sensory issues and now sits beautifully, although his eyes may be shut tight through a lot of it) but always, super uncomfortable.

I feel like I'm walking into the men's lodge and have no business being there. And I tell ya, I really don't want to intrude on their sports talkin, female insulting, crass humor bonding time!! But... the hubs wont take them....

So if it's not challenging enough to be the Ladyofthehouse (a challenge that I love 99% of the time)- I also have to be the lady of the barber shop too!!

*Note: There was another woman at the barbers today - but she doesn't count. This is because she was a size 4 blond with fake nails and heels on. Women who look like that are warmly welcomed into the barbers! Go figure! ;)