My husband keeps his beard neatly trimmed, going to the barber with our five year old son every Saturday. Most kids watched cartoons on Saturday mornings. My son’s Saturday morning ritual was time with his father. They’d ride their bikes the six blocks to the barber. Each would sit in a chair as a voluminous white sheet descended upon them and was wrapped tightly around their necks. They’d talk about their week as the scissor snipped and the razor buzzed. They were set free with a flapping of white billows and a dusting of clipped hair. My son proudly tipped the barber each week.