put a bow on it

Have you ever been out in public somewhere and seen a toddler throwing a fit--the kind where the perpetrator turns red and stops breathing and chokes so hard on his/her own tears that he/she almost throws up? That was my child today. I took Scout to get a haircut, and needless to say she was not into it. I don't know if it was the over-zealous stylist (seriously, guy, you're cutting children's hair...this isn't Frederic Fekkai) or the over-stimulation or the three dum dums she downed while waiting her turn, but something snapped when I plopped her in that firetruck chair.

I finally managed to get her to calm down for a second by sitting in my lap--I wasn't giving up at that point--but her New Year's cut turned into a $10 hack-job bang trim that I could have done at home by myself. There probably would have been just as many tears but less of a sugar rush. I think the people felt sorry for me because they gave me a coupon for $5 off our next cut. I don't think I'll cash in on that one. At least she can see now, and we got to take home a cheap plastic bow reminiscent of the kind they give dogs at the groomer.