When the barber stepped up to begin, the little guy smartly burst into tears. As he tried to squirm away in protest, Andre’s large hand firmly gripped the back of his son's head, holding him steady. Andre tilted his head to the side, letting the barber get to work on his son’s hair.
A tuft of hair fell, landing directly on Andre’s expensive suit, but he didn’t seem to care at all.
“Andre, I’m sorry,” said the barber apologetically.
The little guy cried even louder.
Andre replied, “It’s alright, keep going. Let’s get this over with.”
Most of the staff on the ground floor had abandoned their posts to catch a glimpse of Andre’s son, Henry, in person. But what they hadn’t expected was to witness such a tender, fatherly moment. Of course, they also got to see the little one’s tear-streaked, adorably distressed face.
Mia, holding her child’s tiny hand, bent down into his line of sight, “Sweetheart, it’ll be over before you know it, okay? It doesn’t hurt. After we're done, we can go home and see who Grandpa thinks looks better, alright? Look at my brave little guy, crying so hard.”
The little one cried even harder, “Not ugly, not ugly, Mommy got it wrong.”
Another lock of hair fell onto Andre’s shoulder, and because of the close proximity, some even landed on his neck.
Before long, the toothless tot, his cheeks wet with tears and drool, had soaked his father’s shoulder with his own special brand of wetness.
Mia pulled out a tissue to wipe away her son’s tears and drool, “Where’s Daddy, Henry? Where did Andre go?”
The little guy’s cries softened as he looked up at his mom, equally clueless about his father’s whereabouts.
Playing along, Mia called out playfully, “Honey?”
It was time to work on the back of the head, and Andre loosened his grip, catching his son’s attention with a soft “Hey.”
He turned his head, and Andre gently guided his son’s side to the barber.
Andre’s deep voice resonated beside his son, “Can’t find Daddy?”
Gradually, the little one got used to the buzzing sound and stopped crying, his little chubby face buried in his dad’s shoulder, sniffling.
Mia moved aside, continuing to entertain her son.
The harrowing ten minutes felt like an hour to Mia.
Finally, the little guy’s haircut was done, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
This little guy lived up to his mom’s words; he was not easy to please.
Andre’s neck was littered with his son’s hair clippings, having held his head during the haircut, resulting in his sleeves getting filled with hair too.
Looking at her newly bald son, Mia laughed nonstop. “Son, seeing you suddenly bald, Mommy needs a moment to adjust.”
Andre stood up, brushing off the hair, “Mia, your turn for a haircut?”
Mia checked her hair in the mirror, “Let’s skip it. Let’s go home and bathe, both of you are covered in hair clippings.”
Andre took off his black jacket, still covered in hair.
Unable to brush it all off, Andre headed to the front to pay.
Without a hat, Andre soon draped his black jacket over his son’s head, wrapping him up like a character from a comic book, except his son’s face was a chubby, tear-streaked one.
Leaving the barbershop and heading to the car, Mia, holding her son, said, “Your dad’s neck, sleeves, and shirt are all covered in your hair, and you were crying the whole time. Is Daddy good to you?”
The little guy mumbled affirmatively in his mom’s arms.
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