"For you?" I ask.
"No, the kind of razor that Vern uses on the boys."
Vern is a gentle, experienced barber whom I have considered worth $45 every 10 weeks to turn my puffy, shaggy boys back into little men.
Joel is a gentle, inexperienced barber who does not consider our boys' hair to ever be worth $45.
"Do you know what you're doing?" I ask.
"I've spent the last several years watching him. It can't be that tough," says Joel with a vision.
So, I relent. I put in my little "two cents" about the number of blade I remember Vern using and some advice about leaving their hair a little longer on the top.
The last time we did something like this, we had our cats shaved. We were tired of their long hair, we had just had a baby, the cats fell victim to my nesting instincts. The outcome of having one's cats shaved is threefold: debilitating laughter, cats who hide, and cats who do not recognize each other (despite having been together for 3 years). I'm wondering if there will be any carryover to the boys.