Refined Diner
Greetings to all.
This morning at breakfast, Xavier informed me that he needed a haircut. I agreed. In fact, both he and I have needed haircuts for weeks. I had planned on getting us in yesterday, but the birthday party and the failure of some computer equipment derailed the plan.
I did get an appointment for two thirty and three today. We took them as they were the only two available, and we really needed the trims!
The last several times to the barber, Xavier has fought getting his hair and head messed with. The last two times the barber did dry cuts because Xavier disliked (definitely not strong enough a word here) getting his hair wet with the mister.
Today, he sat and watched Dad get his hair done. He sat very still and watched. He did very little fidgeting. He remained well-behaved and quiet—a little surprising as he definitely did not want to be in the barber shop.
When it came to his turn, he walked over and crawled up on Dad's lap. He told the barber he wanted his hair wet. He sat still, more or less, throughout all the cut. He only flinched when the scissors tickled his skin. "That tickles," this explained often after pulling away.
Since his first hair cut, this trip was the best. He walked away with an unrushed and well-crafted cut. He looked sharp (because he held still and did not fight the barber).
After paying the barber, Xavier wanted to do what we always do after his haircut: walk over to the Italian restaurant and eat pizza.
Today, Xavier took the menu from me and opened it up in front of him. He looked it over. I had to laugh. He did it so convincingly, like any adult would look it over. He looked at all three sections, then pointed at one item in the pizza section.
"Daddy, I want pepperoni pizza."
Not surprisingly, that's what we ordered.