After two weeks of trying to get Signal to agree to having his hair cut by me again, we decided to try the system used by my friend Wendy to cut her son's hair. We sat him in his high chair, gave him some puffs, and went to town. He fussed a bit at first, as his hair was so long that the clippers didn't really want to cut it at all. But once things got going, he was content to eat hair-covered puffs until I was done.
We buzzed the back and sides nice and short, so he no longer looks like he has his very own peyot. While we do live in a predominantly Jewish neighbourhood, Signal doesn't need them. We left the front a bit longer though, allowing us to be able to put in a bit of product and turn our little buddy into Tintin.