Haircuts have always been rather traumatic for Turner. I've only taken him to a salon once (to a close friend who is a stylist), where he screamed every bit as loud as he does at home.
This evening I just needed to trim up his bushy Kerri Strug mop. He started out doing better than ever--squirmy, but not sobbing. But as soon as the hairs started falling down his shirts, itching his neck, and getting in his mouth, he basically gave up on life.