I took Jack to get his haircut today. I haven't done this in well over a year; Andrew usually brings him when he gets his own cut. It was just as adorable as ever, though, what with the wincing and the giant smock and all. But when the hairdresser asked me if she could use the clippers, I had no idea how Jack would react. He certainly wouldn't have stood for the buzzing clippers the last time I took him to get a haircut, eighteen months ago.
We decided to try it, so the hairdresser tried to prepare him. "Look, Jack," she said, holding the clippers. "See this? Look, I can put it on my hand!" Jack smiled uncomfortably at her and gave a bit of a forced laugh. "Can I put it on your hand?" Jack just looked at her.
"Here, put it on my hand," I said, and she did. "Look, Jack! Isn't that funny? Oh, it tickles!" Jack laughed again. "Can we put it on your hand?"
"Um," he replied, with the air of one explaining something to a child, "those are usually for my hair."