Every six weeks since Tyler was just four months old, we've gone for haircuts. Just as surely as the moon passes through its phases, just as reliably as winter turns to spring, my boy's hair grows and grows and grows.
I'm not complaining. We've found some truly delightful places to get their hair cut. Neighbor's basement salons, a cousin's kitchen counter top, and the mecca of fabulous children's haircuts: Cookie Cutters. I have been completely enamored of this pint-sized salon for at least three years now. We know all the stylists by name and even stopped to chat with the owner when we recognized each other in Disneyland last year. There is nothing better than having your kids beg to get haircuts and walk out feeling and looking like a million bucks with a sucker and balloon to boot.
It's been a hard sell, but we are done with our Cookie Cutting ways. My darling sister Aly is a stylist and has been insisting we bring the boys to her salon to be coiffed. Our first trip was a nightmare. The boys knocked over large art pieces into the serenity fountain below and kept talking to the not-so-amused woman on her spa day in the chair next to us. However, the manager thought us charming and we've improved our behavior with each visit. Aly now prepares for our raucous arrival with a bag of cookies from Mrs. Fields for the boys to dive into. It keeps them quiet and happy until it's their turn in the chair. Preston affectionately asks when we can next go to the "salon."
This trip was extra special as it was time to tame McKay's crazy locks. Yes, his first haircut. His super cute, sky-high mohawk has been looking not so super cute these days--more like a bad rug atop a balding foundation really. It was time to risk him looking more like a little man (they always do after those first unruly hairs are gone). He thought the entire experience rather amusing. Here's some fun pics from our first three brothers visit to the salon: