Yesterday, was one of Zachary's least favorite ever. In the morning we went to the Doctor's for some more of his 18 month shots. He started to fuss as we went into the room he got the vaccine in last month. He wrapped his legs around my waist and clung like a monkey. Pretty cute, and funny that he is starting to remember. The real yelling started when he got pinned down by me and the nurse, but a quick poke poke and he was done. Fortunately, I had been prepared, Mr. B. Powell would be proud, I quickly produced a fruit roll up and a toy car (Thank you Grandma Jackie) from my pocket, and with a bit a cuddle he settle down.
After Daycare, he experienced trauma number two, the barbers. I'd even asked Cecellia to recommend a good kids hair place and it turned out to be just three blocks north on B'way. The chairs have wheels, and steering wheels. There are cartoons, video games, toys and candy. But Z was having none of it. He sat and screamed for 25 minutes, while the poor guy tried his best not to injure him. Which is of course why I had not attempted to cut it myself. The barber even resorted to a gentle headlock to get at the really difficult bits. And while Z threw his trantrum, he got snot everywhere, and topping that off with the trimmings, he looked a little like a wolf boy. Think, tar and feathering. After wiping him off it still looked a little like a five o'clock shadow.
Trauma three was less sever, Bathtime is normally a pretty happy time. When I wash his hair, we get mild fuss with an oh you've stopped, that's better, fix. But for the first time he had gel, thick crunchy dried gel for taming rugged Dominican hair. so it needed a little more attention, which Z did not appreciate. But it was all worth it in the end because he woke up this morning and it just looked great. Shiney, short and ready for all his adventuring in NYC this summer.
