My son, the Nestling Sparrow, got a haircut today. I am poor, and cannot afford to pay someone else to torture my child and make him scream, so I had to do it myself.
Two-year-olds should not have hair. In fact, no child should have hair, until they are old enough to take care of it themselves. There is just no point. The Nestling Sparrow hates having hair, and he is always tugging at it (his hair, not his lad, you filthy-minded bastard). I would shave it all off, but that is what the dirty Mexicans and filthy white trash do when their small children have lice, so it would look like I am dirty, louse-infested white trash if I shaved his head.
Unfortunately, that means I have to try and get my toddler to hold still while I take a pair of electric clippers to him and attempt to shape up his hair. I tried to hype it up as much as possible, and convince him that it was the most wonderful thing ever, as I had not used clippers on him before. My arguments were persuasive and convincing, and if I were a Hollywood publicist, Mel Gibson would be nominated for "Man of the Year" by the ADL.
The Nestling Sparrow was having none of it. What he wanted to do was to get a hold of the clippers, and shave my hair, and then the Spouse Sparrow's hair, so he could see what it was like. The Spouse Sparrow and I politely declined his request, and the sprog was deeply suspicious after that. If we didn't want it done to us, there must be something very, very wrong with it.
The Spouse Sparrow finally succeeded in getting our son to hold still, and I had a go at the enormous mop that is his hair. It didn't turn out too badly, as long as you don't expect haircuts to be symmetrical, or blended, or have even lengths on the sides.
Afterwards, my teenage daughter, the Fledgling Sparrow, emerged from her cave, and inquired as to why the baby had a Nazi haircut. I promptly held her down and shaved her head bald. Now, when Hallowe'en comes around, they can dress up like Nazis and concentration camp Jews. Fucking teenagers.
Later on tonight, I have to give the Spouse Sparrow his haircut. Then we'll see some real screaming and tantrums.