Greyson Needs a Haircut!

Before the trauma began

The trauma began but this was before three grown men had to hold him down.

Doesn't he look like a big boy???

A certificate showing Greyson has entered into barbershop "manhood"

Greyson needs a haircut! That is what our friend from Rwanda told us while visiting our house on Thanksgiving. It was becoming a little unmanageable…….dry and kind of kinky and just generally unhealthy. We had made the mistake of washing it nightly just as we did the girls. That apparently is a big no-no. We attempted to reverse the damage we had done by conditioning nightly but it was all for not. So there was only one option. Cut it off and start again.

I began the search for a good black barber shop…..not so much because we didn’t think he could get it cut anywhere else but because the barber shop is kind of a cultural hub for black men in America, at least that is what my black friends have told me. So, because Greyson has me as a father, a white mom, two white sisters and even a white Westie as the family dog…..I feel it is really important for Greyson to be exposed to African American men in as many ways as possible. I also felt it was important for me to take him…not sure why but I just wanted to.

So after recommendations from some African American friends and another adopting family we headed off this morning to Haskin’s barber shop. It was a funny experience. It was kind of like those movies where the white guy walks into the black bar and the music stops and everyone looks at him. In this case, everyone saw Greyson and put two and two together pretty quickly. Now, I didn’t know this but a haircut and shave takes a little more time than what we are used to at Supercuts. It was about 30 minutes per person but we were 2nd in line so no worries. Unfortunately, about half way through the guy before Greyson, I realized the shop did not take credit cards. Ugh! We had to give our spot up and go get cash. We came back and now we were 3rd in line.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the conversation amongst all those in the shop. It was great. Just common stuff, kids, the news and of course, wives. Everyone agreed it just does not make sense to argue….just do what you’re told and your marriage would be fine. I was surprised to find it a fun time listening to all the conversation. Funny, the presumptions you take with you into new experiences. I loved it...it didn’t really have anything to do with the fact that it was a black barber shop but that it was kind of like a boy’s club where there were no girls and just good fun ribbing back and forth. All men should go to a barber shop.

Luckily, the men in the shop saw Greyson getting antsy and let me go to the front of the line. I told everyone I had to take a picture or Heather would kill me. That is when the guy who said it was best to do what your wife tells you jokingly told me to quit being a punk and stand up to my wife. With that bit of ribbing I felt a little more accepted into this group.

That is where the fun started. Greyson did well for about 3 seconds before coming unglued. As Eric, the barber started his work you would have thought we were cutting Greyson’s fingers off. He was inconsolable. He was yelling and squirming and angrier than I have ever seen a child. It took three of us to hold him in the seat so Eric could cut his hair. Every man in the shop was trying to help. One person grabbed a sucker and gave it to him while one helped hold him in the chair. It was a group effort! It was over in a few minutes. The barber gave Greyson a certificate for his first cut and we were done. The men said to make sure and call them next time so they would know when not to come! More jokes. Well, it was fun and I think I had a better time than Greyson. Man time, you know?