"Hold still, Wil, or I might get your ear by mistake." Phil warned with a frustrated breath as he pulled the scissors away for what felt like the millionth time.

"But my legs are falling asleep." Wilbur complained with a deep sigh.

"You've been sitting for less than twenty minutes, Wilbur. Your legs are fine." Phil stated plainly as he moved to once more try to trim the curls just over Wil's left ear.

"But-"

"I just need to finish around your ears and the back of your neck and your done. Its going to take longer the more you make me stop." Phil cut in, once more having to adjust Wil's head his son had started to turn.

"But, I'm bored." He sighed out, almost slumping in his seat if it weren't for the hold on his head.

"I asked if you wanted to do this in the living room and you said 'no'. You chose having food over entertainment."

Wilbur huffed again and crossed his arms. He was told he only needed a trim and had decided that something like that would be done in the time it takes to eat a sandwich. He was wrong though, apparently, and now was stuck staring at the mostly empty counter until his father decided he was done.

Despite the warning from his father Wilbur continued to fuss and kick his legs below him. He tensed up at the sound of the scissors snipping just above his ear though, instinctively pulling away from the noise.

"Wil, please sit still." His father breathed out above him.

Phil honestly didn't know how his wife managed to do this alone with the boys without trouble. Unless she just wasn't telling him about it. Whenever it was his turn to trim the boys hair and his wife was away it was like a battle.

Wilbur was the most challenging of course, though not always. Sometimes, if Phil was lucky, Wil could be distracted long enough to finish the cut with minimal fuss. Most of the time though it was like Wilbur was suddenly inspired by some spirit of chaos or restlessness. The moment he was sat anywhere and told to sit still suddenly his legs needed to be moving, his hands needed to touch everything and any sort of sound was of great interest.

At least with Techno he tried his best to squirm as little as possible. It only really became an issue when they got close to his ears. Other then that he was perfectly fine sitting in one place so long as he had a book in his lap.

"Am I done yet? My neck is all itchy." Wilbur complained with a whine at the end.

Phil let out a breath as he brushed off his sons neck of all the trimmings that had gathered there. It wasn't all that much, but Phil doubted that mattered at the moment. It was like 'Princess and the Pea' syndrome.

"Almost done. Just a little longer, mate." Phil assured his son, though he knew it would mean little to him at the moment.

Wilbur let out a dramatic, his head tilted as if he were going to throw it backwards until Phil stopped it with his own hands. He really could have had this finished five minutes ago if Wilbur merely cooperated without the attitude.

Techno watched from the living room, peering into the kitchen over the back of the sofa every few minutes. His book was barely helping his anxiety settle as he ran a hand absently through his own hair. It was a bit messy, but it wasn't as bad as Wilbur's had been. Wil's curls were far more defined than his own and with the length now they were more like lazy waves. While he wasn't particularly involved with what his hair got up to, he didn't see why it needed to be cut. It was only just barely reaching past his jaw. He'd seen people with far longer.

Biting his lip Techno looked over the sofa again. Wil sat with a grimace on his face as his head was angled forwards. Their father was stood behind Wilbur, expression set firm as he careful brought the scissors closer to his bother's neck. Though, at least it was the scissors and not the 'hair buzzer'. That thing made his head hurt with it screaming its noise into his ear at a constant. The scissors at least were mildly pleasant to listen to…at a distance at least.

"Techno, get ready. Its almost your turn." His father called over, disrupting his thoughts.

It made his stomach tighten but he didn't say anything. He knew one way or another he'd be sat in that chair. Not even Wilbur could worm his way out of it. Though, he hadn't really seen his brother fight against it. Only growing impatient a little after it started.

With a breath Techno moved to slide off the couch, looking into the playpen where his little brother sat. He envied Tommy at that moment, in his own little world of toys and without a care as to what a 'hair cut' was or what it entailed. Tommy didn't know what it was to sit in a chair as still as possible as a pair of sharp scissors danced around your head cutting things off at random. Tommy didn't know what it was to feel and watch as itchy bits of your hair slowly coated you until your parents brushed you off and said you were done.

Techno envied Tommy for every ounce of not knowing his tiny body held.

"Techno, come on mate. Seats open." His father called from the other room.

Wilbur's feet could be heard as he popped out of said seat, slapping out of the tiled kitchen and into the living room quickly. He was scratching at his neck with a frown.

"It still itches." He complained loudly with a huff.

"Then go shower, Wil. There isn't much more I could brush off." Their father stated with a mildly exasperated tone.

It was a voice Wilbur often was able to pull from the man, often times without trying…but far more often when he was.

Techno padded over to the kitchen and looked at the seat with a frown. His father was moving it slightly closer to the table to make it easier for Techno to prop his book on, which was usual. However, that didn't make the event any less uncomfortable. He walked over slowly as he stared at the offending chair.

"Get comfy, mate. I see a few snarls we'll have to get rid of before I can start cutting properly." His father informed him with an audible frown as he looked Techno over from where he stood.

Techno squirmed in place as he continued to stare at the chair. He never liked to hear the word 'snarl' when it came to his hair. It meant lots of painful brushing until the tangle came loose. His mother had a way of doing it where it wasn't so bad, but his father…His father tried, but there was always more tugging than Techno cared for.

"i don't want to." Techno stated in a small voice as he refused to look up.

"We have to, Tech. Your hair is getting really long."

"What's wrong with long hair?" Techno asked, this time looking up at his father.

The man was looking back at him with an expression he couldn't identify. He wasn't angry or frustrated that Techno could tell.

"Nothing's wrong with long hair, mate. But yours is tangled and starting to look like a nest. You don't take good care of it." The man explained as he once more motioned for Techno to get into the chair, "Since its a mess, we cut it to make it easier to deal with."

"What if I take care of it?" Techno asked quickly, hugging his book with a new hope in his voice.

"Its a bit late for that, Tech. We have to cut it." His father insisted, though his tone softened as Techno's face fell, "But, I'll make a deal with you."

Techno looked up at his father expectantly and with focus, waiting to hear whatever 'deal' might save him.

"You let me cut it right now without a fuss and then start taking proper care of your hair, then I'll talk to your mother about letting you grow it out as long as you like."

Techno's eyes widened at the proposal.

Hair as long as he wanted.

He'd never thought about it before but, no more hair cuts. No more needless sitting in place. No more itchy, scratchy feeling over his shoulders. Not more snipping by his ears. It could be over.

"But, I mean it. You have to take good care of it. If you start looking like a hobo then we cut it all off and go back to regular sit downs. And no matter what trimming it is still important." His father stated as he extended his hand, "We got a deal?"

Techno didn't even need to think on it for another minute. He reached his hand out and took hold of his father's as best he could and shook on it. Techno smiled and rested his book on the table so he could climb into the awaiting seat.

His father got into place and started to go about brushing the tangled mop atop his head when Techno suddenly turned to look up at him.

"Tech-"

"I don't want it short like Wilbur's." Techno stated bluntly causing his father to pause in some surprise.

"Well, I can try. But your hair isn't that long to begin with compared to your brother. Its probably going to be just about the same." Phil stated as he glanced over at his elder son.

Wilbur was sitting on the arm of the sofa and scratching at the back of his neck with a frown. He knew he wasn't supposed to be sitting like that, but Wil like to press his luck. The only reason Phil wasn't saying anything on it at the moment was because Wil was already close to 'chaos mode' and he really didn't have enough hands to handle that and hair cut day.

"...Tell you what, if I can get the snarls out with the brush then I'll try to leave it as long as I can." The man offered looking back down to younger child.

Techno was still staring up at him, the flecks of red in his brown eyes more noticeable at the angle. It always caught him off guard when it happened. Almost like something out a of a horror movie or anime.

Techno let out a deep breath and nodded solemnly, as if he had just agreed to fight in a war.

"As long as you can keep it." He repeated before looking back down and towards his book.

"What's so wrong with hair like mine?" Wilbur asked from his spot on the sofa arm, "Why didn't I get a deal to keep it longer?"

"Because you didn't ask." His father replied simply as he began brushing Techno's hair, "You could have gotten the same deal-"

"I don't want the same deal." Wilbur cut him off with a frown, "Long hair would be annoying. Short is better."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Phil asked with a chuckle at this point.

"Because I wanted 'short' hair, not 'shaved'. This is practically to my skull." Wilbur stated as he tugged on his hair as if to prove his point.

However, seeing as most of his hair was still a fair length aside from the sides of his head and back of his neck, it was a failed point. This didn't deter Wilbur at all though as he now got to his feet and returned to the kitchen to stand in front of his brother with crossed arms.

"You should keep getting it short like mine. Its just easier."

"Wil, don't pressure your brother. He's stated what he wants." Their father scolded lightly.

"I don't want it short." Techno added with a frown.

"But-"

"Wil-"

"Just hear me out-"

"Wilbur, either leave it alone or go play with Tommy." Phil directed, leaving no room for Wil to weasel in one of his arguments that always seemed to sway Techno to his side.

He wanted Techno to be able to bring up things he wanted and to have the chance to actually try them. While he knew Wilbur meant no harm in it, the elder boy was terribly good with persuading Techno to his way of thinking, even if only in the moment.

"Short hair is too cold." Techno stated, breaking into the brief silence.

He was staring at Wilbur as he said this and the two maintained a matched gaze for a few moments before Wil gave a shrug and a sigh.

"Okay. Just don't complain to me when you have to brush it all the time." Wil countered with before he turned towards the living room.

During all the talking Tommy had apparently realized he wasn't the center of attention and was stating to make it the households problem. He was letting out distressed whines from his playpen and was gearing up for what sounded like one of his growingly infamous tantrums.

Taking one for the team Wilbur placed himself in front of Tommy's pen and stuck his hand inside for his brother to latch to. Tommy was quick to grab hold, sticking Wilbur's fingers into his mouth to his older brothers disgust.

The short clip of hair shears could be heard from the kitchen.