Sunday, April 15, 2012


There are no less than 8 Supercuts within a 5 mile radius of my house.  There are 27 within 10 miles.  And yet, we drive to one that is 16 miles away so that my son can get his hair cut by the stylist he has a crush on.  Kristi is her name.  When I say her name, he smiles and sometimes I see those little cartoon hearts coming out from behind his head.

The child did not require a haircut until he was 18 months old.  Even then, it was just a little trim.  I accidentally shaved his head when he was 2 1/2, so he didn't need a cut again for a long time after that.  He hated (and still does) to be touched or poked or prodded.  He reacted to getting a haircut in much the same manner as he reacts to going to the doctor or dentist.  And he reacts to those events as though you are pouring hot acid straight into his eyeballs as you rip all of his finger nails off while he's swimming in a vat of rubbing alcohol with paper cuts all over his body.

But then we met Kristi.  She didn't do anything differently than any of the other ladies who have tried to cut his hair.  She used the buzzer and the scissors and put the cape on and all the regular haircut stuff that made him freak out.  He still squirms a bit.  He complains that the hair makes him itchy, he doesn't like the snaps on the cape or having his arms covered.  He does, however, make eye contact with Kristi and smiles at her.  He puts on his flirtatious one man show where he says silly things and forgets things like what he got in his Easter basket.

Kristi is young, probably in her early 20s.  She's cute.  When I first met her, her hair was white-blond with pink streaks.  Today her hair was black with a greenish-blue thing going on.  It works for her.  She is tattooed and generally cool-looking.  I can see why he is smitten.

She used to work at the Supercuts close to our house (one of the 8).  One day we called to get him on the list and we found out she was transferred to one that is in an area we otherwise have absolutely no reason to go to.  The truth is that I will continue to drive him 16 miles, paying $2 in tolls if I go the quickest route, to his haircut by a girl that makes him smile, does a nice job and doesn't induce a panic attack.

I mean honestly, with a face like this, how could I refuse him?

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  1. oomph...chicks, man

    He looks great, but tell him to beware of more Kristis in the world, ha

  2. Oh I know. I'm in trouble when this one gets older!

  3. Oh how cute!! Heck I may need to find this Kristi you speak of...the guy cutting my sons hair just does't seem to do it for him anymore!!! Lol

    1. Thanks so much! I shouldn't have used her name. She'll end up so popular we'll never be able to get in to see her!