My boys don't like haircuts. It really doesn't make sense, especially since I set them down in front of the TV and let them pick out whatever DVD they like to watch while I cut away. But, knowing the penchant to howl, I tried to prepare Seth gently the other day when I saw a haircut was needed.
"Sethie," I told him as he snuggled on my lap, "your little wild hairies are getting very long. I think we need to cut them."
"No," he asserted, "I tink we don't."
"But they are very long."
"I don' tink they're very yong."
"But they are long," I explained vainly. "Anyway, Mommy has decided to cut your wild hairies, and we are going to do it today."
He wasn't ready to go down without a fight. There was a long pause. "Mommy," he pointed out, "you hairies is bigger den mine!"