He sat the boy on the footlocker under the gaslamp and with a plastic comb and a pair of scissors he set about cutting his hair. He tried to do a good job and it took some time. When he was done he took the towel from around the boy's shoulders and he scooped the golden hair from the floor and wiped the boy's face and shoulders with a damp cloth and held a mirror for him to see.
[The Boy:] You did a good job, Papa.
[The Man:] Good.
[The Boy:] I look really skinny.
[The Man:] You are really skinny.
He cut his own hair but it didnt come out so good. He trimmed his beard with the scissors while a pan of water heated and then he shaved himself with a plastic safety razor. The boy watched. When he was done he regarded himself in the mirror. He seemed to have no chin. He turned to the boy. How do I look? The boy cocked his head. I dont know, he said. Will you be cold? (225.1-225.6)
What does this passage have to do with love? Well, The Man does a better job cutting The Boy's hair than he does his own. You may respond: "OK. Whatever. The Man can actually see what he's doing when he cuts The Boy's hair." Fair enough. But isn't this "failure" part of love? That we care for others somehow better than we could ever care for ourselves?
He stopped. What happened to your flute?
[The Boy:] I threw it away.
[The Man:] You threw it away?
[The Boy:] Yes.
[The Man:] Okay.
[The Boy:] Okay. (231.54-231.59)
Earlier, The Man had carved The Boy this nifty flute. (McCarthy doesn't really describe the carving – he just mentions it.) It must have taken a long time – musical instruments aren't easy to make after all. So The Boy just goes and throws the flute away? Wouldn't you be angry and hurt? But The Man isn't – or doesn't seem to be – which only goes to show how much he loves The Boy. Didn't someone once say that love is patient?
He looked at the boy. See if you can find the first-aid kit, he said.
The boy didn't move.
[The Man:] Get the first-aid kit, damn it. Don't just sit there.
[. . .]
He took a clamp from the kit and caught the needle in the jaws and locked them and set about suturing the wound. He worked quickly and he took no great pains about it. The boy was crouching in the floor. He looked at him and he bent to the sutures again.
[. . .]
He ran the knot down the thread and pulled it taut and cut off the silk with the scissors from the kit and looked at the boy. The boy was looking at what he'd done.
[The Man:] I'm sorry I yelled at you.
He looked up. That's okay, Papa.
[The Man:] Let's start over.
[The Boy:] Okay. (365.1-365.13)
The Man has just been shot in the leg by an arrow. Imagine you've just been shot in the leg by an arrow and you say to your son, "Son, go see if you can find the first-aid kit in the garage. I think it's next to the bike pump." Your son just stares at you. Of course you would say to him: "Get the *&$% first-aid kit, Billy." You are, let's not forget, bleeding profusely from a wound. In this passage, however, after The Man stitches his own wound (ouch!), he apologizes to The Boy. He says, "Let's start over." Put this in the parenting book, because this is how love is done.