A Visit to the Butcher

So my story actually starts yesterday. I put the little two down for their naps around 1:00. When I heard them stirring over the monitors at 4:00, I headed up the stairs to get them out of their cribs. With each step I took up to their rooms, it got hotter and hotter.

Step 1, 70 degrees. Step 4, 75 degrees. Step 8, 80 degrees.

By the time I reached the top of the staircase, I could see on the thermostat that it was more than 80 degrees up there (despite the fact that I had the temperature set to 70).

Needless to say, Jack and Isabel weren't in the happiest of moods when I went in their rooms. They were hot, sticky, and just generally ill. When I picked Jack up, there was a full sweat-imprint of his body on the sheet!

I used my best detective skills to determine that our air conditioner must be broken. (I say that in serious jest because at least one of our units has gone out once or twice a year every year since 2004. Forget photography...how about Lewis Heating & Air?) So I took the kids downstairs, away from the Sahara, and got them each a snack and a nice cold cup of water. Notice Jack's still-quite-pitiful face.


Josh and I have been talking recently about getting Jack's hair cut (by someone who actually knows what they're doing...unlike this time). So as I sat staring at the mound of sweat-hair on Jack's head, I decided this was my sign.

It was time for a summer cut.

I got a coupon in the mail this week for SportClips, and since I love a deal, I loaded the kids, snacks, and camera in the car, and off to SportClips we drove. On the way, I talked with Jack about getting his first big-boy haircut, and he seemed genuinely pumped. He even chanted "my haircut, my haircut, my haircut"! He was still excited when we drove up to the store and got out of the car to head inside.

But we all got a little antsy when we opened the front door, and the receptionist barked, "Y'ALL BEEN HERE BEFORE?"

What happened to "Welcome to SportClips!" or "Good morning!" or even a simple "Hi"?

I briefly thought about saying "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought this was Publix. We're trying to buy groceries." But I thought better of it, and I ushered the little ones in and replied in my cheeriest "come-on-lady-work-with-me-here" voice, "No, it's our first visit. Jack's here for his very first big-boy haircut."

(Translation: "Please, please Receptionist, soften up, or this isn't going to be pretty.")

Receptionist took our information, and just when I thought we were going to move on to a gentler employee, Receptionist walked out from behind the counter and announced that she was also Stylist.

Fantastic.

At this point, Jack is now bear-hugging my leg and darting his eyes around the store as if a whole host of Receptionist/Stylists are going to eat him for lunch.

I tried to sit him in the chair, and he immediately collapsed into a ball of fearful tears. Stylist offered to let Jack sit in my lap, so we gave that a try, and it went much better. Things were actually looking up until Stylist pulled out the water bottle to spray Jack's hair. Keep in mind that I'm sitting in the chair with Jack. Our heads are four inches apart. Unfortunately, that means I got sprayed directly in the face with water throughout the entire haircut.

Directly. In. The. Face.

I said "Oooh, wow, that's cold!"

Hint not taken.

As I mentioned, I took my camera with me to document Jack's Big Scary Day, but since he was in my lap, I managed to land myself in each and every picture. Sorry for that.


I needed a video camera for this next picture. Still photos just don't do it justice, but Abby kept reaching up and rubbing Jack's face and saying "It's OK, buddy."


Abby must have been putting on a brave face when she did that, because when she wasn't comforting Jack, she looked pretty horrified herself.


In between shots of cold water to the face, I tried to strike up conversation with Stylist (who does have a lovely name...I'm just not sharing it in case anyone reading this knows her), and she eventually eased up a little. I even found out that she's got a little two-year-old boy of her own (which killed my theory of "maybe she's just not used to little kids").

Jack's terror from his visit to SportClips turned to elation, though, when Receptionist (she changed back) offered him a sucker before we left. See? She's got a soft spot after all!


A quick lunch later, and Jack was back down for a nap.


And the air conditioner? It's working fine.

I prayed for a quick response from our home warranty company...maybe God decided to answer me in a different way.

No sweaty body-prints today!!