I took Quinn for a haircut this week. He loves to get his haircut. I don’t love to get his haircut. I like his hair a little longer. But the poor kid’s been sweeping his bangs out of his eyes so much it’s become a tic. Plus we don’t get through a day without someone asking me, “How old is SHE?” or “What’s HER name?”. I don’t mind that much, but now that he’s getting older I figure it might leave some kind of irreparable emotional scarring. Like the summer I was eight and my mom let the stylist cut my hair so short that my brother, Steve, called me “Butch” and I heard girls at summer camp whispering to eathother about what in the world a boy was doing on the girls side of the camp. No, I’m not over it.

But enough about me. This is about Quinn and why he likes to get haircuts. One word — treats. Kid’s hair cut places always have a jar of lollis. Quinn knows this and knows that a haircut means a guaranteed treat. Have you ever seen a kid so excited about a haircut?

Yeah, he was pretty stoked about the VW Bug too.

He knows the treat is only moments away.

See that teenytiny lollipop? He actually chose that over an ice cream cone. Here’s how the conversation went in the car:

Amy: Guess what, Quinn, you’re getting a haircut today.

Quinn: Yay! (claps hands) Will there be treats?

A: Maybe. Probably lollipops or something like that. But you know what, the hair cut place is right next to Mitchell’s Ice Cream so you can get an ice cream cone instead.

Q: I been to the haircut place before?

A: No, not this one.

Q: I been to the ice cream place before?

A: Yes.

Q: I want the treat at the haircut place.

A: Why?

Q: B’cause I not had their treats before.

A: Okay. Well why don’t we see what kind of treats they have and then you can decide. They might not even have treats.

Later, after the cut the woman shows Quinn the jar with the most impossibly small lollipops you’ve ever seen. Quinn happily chooses one over the temptation of an ice cream cone and thinks it’s a total coup.