Guilt

Is that time of the month again.
Where we have to think of a white lie to convince him that we do this for his own good, as his hair gets untidy and smelly, you know childern sweat a lot, in fact, they sweat so much that you sometimes become afraid that they might collapse out of dehydration.

The innocent look works pretty well on Mummy, where her heart melt from his plead:

"Mummy, no cut cut! No!"

As Papa look onto his face and affirm him that this is merely a trip to barber, there will be no pain and no blood. He is obviously not convinced.

Dictatedship would not work here either, all sort of goodies was promise just for the that ought to be make right choices, it is by right his choice to determine what is really good for him.

(You treat me like small kid) So he demand more, and take everything for granted, but refused to comply.

So I have to tell him I love him, and promise that we will go through this together till the very end, but I must have betray by feeling, for on the way he give me a deep look, and I was quite, unable to find a word that I am genuine, and, sincere.

We sit through the whole session together, with me hold his hand and looking into his eyes all along, making sure that he has no fear, no doubt.

Ah! this is a very important event in our life, that we must make careful consideration, making the right choice, afterall, it is a hair cut, once it is cut it will take a long time to grow back.