It all started with a bad haircut -- Charlie's, not mine. We took him in to get trimmed up before Nanie's birthday party and while they did a pretty good job on the front, the back looked terrible. We dealt with it for a while, but as it grew out a bit it looked like a serious mullet, so Charlie and I headed to a new "salon" yesterday after school -- conveniently located next to Publix and for which I had a $3 off coupon!
Unfamiliar with Famous Hair, I wasn't sure if they would provide a sucker -- the most crucial part of any haircut where Charlie is involved. Ever since Halloween, sugar has miraculous powers over Charlie -- it's almost like some cultish religion. On the positive end, it can get him to sit still through a haircut...on the negative end, it can turn him into a demanding, inconsolable brat, but I digress...
To be on the safe side, we stopped in Publix before the salon to buy a sucker -- an easy task, or so I thought. Apparently grocery stores no longer sell normal, little suckers. The closest thing I could find was this push pop thing designed to last so long that it requires a lid for storage. Nonetheless, it was our only hope.
Despite the lengthy wait, Charlie did great at the hairdresser, chiefly because I continually reminded him that only good boys got suckers -- I have no idea what I would have done had he been out of control, because the sucker is the only thing that got him to sit still in the chair. The only rough moment occurred when the stylist took the sucker to rinse all the hair off of it...luckily she was quick.
Retaining some common sense despite the fact that I have a 20 month old son, I took away the push pop before the ride home -- such a delightful 7 minutes of hearing "canny" screamed at the top of Charlie's lungs. The kid knows how to play me, though. As we pulled into the driveway, I told him that he couldn't have his sucker back unless he stopped crying -- I might as well have flipped a switch.
Over the next two hours that horrible stick of sugar stuck to everything...Charlie, me, Otis, grass, the wet wipe when I tried to clean off the gravel from a drop on the driveway. It was absolutely disgusting. Finally, as dinner time approached and a dirty diaper called, I took it away -- there was absolutely no way that thing was entering my house in Charlie's hands. Enter breakdown number two. Fortunately, the mandatory bath to unstick Charlie from himself also calmed him down.
I managed to hide the nasty little stick for the rest of the evening, but distracted with preparations for our Thanksgiving trip, I forgot to throw it away...imagine my shock and dismay when Charlie started screaming "canny" and pointing at the counter this morning while I made coffee. I held firm, though -- we didn't have time for another bath, plus it was too cold to relegate him to the porch until school.
Therefore, based on the past 12 hours, I have decided that exempting anything containing chocolate, peanut butter or coconut, candy is the root off all evil...well if not evil, then at least brattiness. Maybe boycotting Halloween wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all...
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