An open letter to Harmon

Dear son,

I must take this opportunity to apologize for some of the things that will happen during the next 15 years, until you turn 18. Your Mom and I probably will not let you get that earring, or stay out past midnight on your first date, or play hockey (Mom's choice, not mine!). But, these small disappointments are nothing compared to what I put you through this past weekend.

You are a good-looking kid, but your hair was getting a little long. We had planned to take you to your usual spot, Carnival Cuts in Twelve Oaks Mall, but we found out they have closed their doors (at least temporarily). Luckily your usual stylist, Ms. Laurie, called and told us that she was cutting hair at a different salon, so we decided to take you there. I should have been tipped off by the name, but, OH NO! Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next at ... wait for it ... Sweet & Sassy!

Now they do cut boys' hair, as suggested by their Web site: boy's cut, boy's cut with shampoo, and baby's first cut. The girl's menu really points to our experience: the cutie cut, the sweet cut, and the (getting original here) SASSY cut. Not to mention the menu of up-dos! But, it wasn't just the haircuts going on; it was the runway hair and fashion shows, the glittery faces and sugary-sweet music blaring the whole time. You didn't cry once, even though the cloud of perfume and make-up dust made me a little weepy in the eye.

Anyway, you were a good boy, but I am sorry we turned you into Simon's big sister for 20 minutes. OK, so maybe you can stay out until 12:30 a.m.

Love, Dad