Haircut Commentary

We walked into the haircut place and it was crowded.  Apparently everybody had the same idea of a Sunday afternoon haircut.  I didn't mind the wait.  It was some quality time with my boy.  I listened to him talk and talk... and talk.  Finally it was his turn.  We walked back and he took a seat.
"Hold on a second," says the beautician I shall call Sally.  "I need to grab a booster seat."
"I don't need a booster."  Ethan replies.
"Ethan, she needs it to cut your hair."  I said.
Ethan then begins to talk non-stop for the next 10 minutes.  "I don't like the buzzers, they pinch me... This thing chokes me... A piece of hair is on my belly... Who's gonna get that hair?  I look like a turtle.  Do you think I look like a turtle?  There's a hair on my toe.  Can someone get that hair on my toe?"
Sally tries to change the subject, "How old are you?"
"Six."
"So you're in school."
"Ummm, well, Sunday School."
"Sunday School?"
"Yeah, every Sunday before church even starts!"
"Oh, that's good."
I interrupt, "He's homeschooled."  She ignores me.  She then gets out scissors to cut the top.
Ethan continues his commentary.  "Oh, those are razor sharp.  Aren't they razor sharp?"
"Yes," Sally says, "So hold still so I don't cut you... Your hair is really long.  When's the last time you got a hair cut?  Do you remember?"  (I'll try not to take that as a personal Mommy jab)
"Yes."  Ethan replies.  She begins to cut as his hair falls all around him.  "Aghhh, it's raining hair!"  He laughs.  She doesn't.  He continues, "Abby doesn't get her haircut.  Just her bangs..."  She brushes his hair back.  "I don't like my hair like that.  I like it to be brushed forward and for the sides to be back behind my ears... Mom, I don't like it like that."
"Be patient, Ethan.  You can do it how you want when you get home."  I assure him.
"We're almost done,"  Sally says.
"Haircut people always say that and it still takes a really long time."  He looks at Sally, "Can I tell you something?"  She doesn't respond.  He speaks louder, "Can I tell you something?!"  She ignores him again.  She changes the subject,  "Do you want gel?"
"No."
"Mousse?"
"No."
"Color?"
His eyes perk up, "Yes,"  she gives him choices and he picks red.
"It washes out."  She says.  She rubs it through his hair and it's spiky all over.
"I don't like it spiky.  Can you brush it forward?  Mom, I don't like it spiky.  Can someone brush it forward?"
"It looks cool spiky."  I say.
"I don't like it spiky.  I like it to go forward."  He responds.  She brushes it forward.  "Will this last awhile?  I want to show Eliah.  Daddy is gonna like this."

I'm tired, Sally's tired but Ethan's hair is cut.  I can't say I wasn't chuckling to myself the whole time.  :)