haircut, part 2

Isaac's last haircut, back in February, did not turn out as well as could be desired. Now, in June, though everyone was glad that it had grown out well enough, his hair was starting to get long. My parents agreed that Isaac was due for another cut. This time, though, my mom was not going to let my dad and his scissors get anywhere near Isaac. She would do it, she said, and I could help.

I was fine with this. I have assisted in a lot of haircuts over the years. Mainly holding the head while my mom runs over it with clippers, as we laugh hysterically and the poor child squirms and cries. But it usually turns out fine. I thought this would happen again, until I found out that there were no clippers. We were expected to do this in the bathtub, with an autistic, rambunctious child, and only a pair of scissors. No. Way. I backed out of that as fast as possible, and ten minutes later, my dad and a couple sisters and I were walking to the haircutting salon with Isaac in tow.

This time, all went well. He still squirmed:
and it took two people to hold him down:
but he didn't cry. There were no bald spots, no crying mother or Isaac (yes, he also cried when he saw the result last time, and wore a hat around for at least a week), and a pretty good haircut. He looks very cute now.

the Before shot:
And After:
Quite a bit gone. And all in all, not a bad cut. He seems to agree, minutes later:
*bonus shot: four Schupacks all wearing flip-flops. A family trait. We probably have over 20 pairs between the 9 of us: