Haircut, Continued 2...

If Pop Pop didn't get a haircut with me, he sat in the corner near the fake ..plant and flipped through National Geographic magazines or that day's paper, looking up every once in a while to see how I was doing.

The barber stared intently at my head as he worked, closing his fingers on my hair with one hand and snipping off the ends with the other.

He said nothing until he made his final cuts and took a step back, "There you go son."

I turned my head from side to side as I inspected my new due.

"All set?" Pop Pop asked as I jumped down from the chair.

"All set."

Sometimes Pop Pop would get caught up in a conversation about baseball or the recent news stories he had seen the night before. I never had to wait long before we made our way back to the car.

"Okay," Pop Pop said turning the key. "Let's get some ice cream." We got ice cream every time he took me for a hair cut when it wasn't winter.

I pressed my face up to the freezer glass and inspected the flavors. I could never decide. I usually picked mint chocolate chip, not because I liked mint or chocolate (which I did) but because green was my favorite color.

"Thanks Pop Pop," I said, trying to hold the glob of freezing ice cream in my mouth.