Coral Gables Historical Archive
The Times
Thursday, February 9, 1961, page 31 (of 80)
The page
The text of this pageRead by computer from the scan, so some words may be wrong. The page picture is the original.
The Father's Duty Who else has the strength to take a six-year-old to the barbershop?
ILLUSTRATION BY RON WING BY ART BUCHWALD "ALL RIGHT THEN, why don't you take him to get a haircut?" The speaker was my wife. The statement was made after a long-drawn-out discussion that I made the mistake of starting by simply saying, "The kid needs a haircut." The kid, it turns out, is six years old and he still can't tell the difference between barbers and doctors. They both wear white smocks and they both have thousands of torture instruments at their disposal. The first time the kid went to a barber he pulled down his pants and waited for the hypodermic needle. Another time he went to the doctor's ice and told the doctor he wanted his hair cut real short. In either case, he refuses to give them his business. His mother showed me one of these women's magazines whose lead articles, written by "well-known child psychiatrists," are always trying to prove that, with the best of intentions, parents are driving their children into mental homes, manic-pressions, and child marriage. This particular magazine pointed out that it was the father's duty to take the male child to the barber. Haircuts are tied up with masculinity, and when the mother takes the child to a barber and the child has a tantrum, he is really revolting against his mother and not the barber, or some jazz like that. Anyway, there is no point in this modern world in arguing with a child psychiatrist, and I settled the discussion by agreeing to take the boy to the barber. You would think he would have been overjoyed when he heard the news, but he would have none of it. Then I showed him the article but he did what I originally wanted to do. He tore the article out of the book and ripped it into shreds. I had to use strong parental action. "If you go to the barber with me, I'll buy you a toy." "What kind of toy?" he asked, realizing he was in a strong bargaining position. "A big toy!" I shouted. "What kind of a slob do you think I am?" "Will you buy Connie and Jennifer toys, also?" he asked, now bargaining for his younger sisters. "Sure, why not? Then we'll stop by Continued on page 8 Suburbia Today, February 1961 7
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