On Sunday, Mom took me and Noah to a barbershop to get a haircut. She looked slightly unsure as we walked into the small building.
"Why didn't we just go to your salon like before?" Noah asked, confused. He took a look around, making it obvious that he had never been here before.
"Jake isn't comfortable around middle-aged women so we should obviously go to a place that is mostly male." She looked around and made eye contact with one of the men coming out of their restroom in the back. "Hello."
The man walked up to us. "Welcome! How can I help you all out today?"
Mom rested a hand on my shoulder. "My son just needs a trim to get the hair out of his eyes. Maybe a little off the sides too. Or maybe-" She glanced down at me. "Do you want to just tell him yourself? Just pick whatever makes you comfortable. You can even get it shaved like Noah's."
