There isn’t a person reading this who hasn’t had a haircut. Good ones, bad ones, in-between ones. I’m thinking about it because I’m at that dangerous point in my hair care regimen where a straightening kit seems the only solution. Sleek swinging hair is something that has eluded me most of my life and if one more person says, “woman pay good money to get curls like that,” their reward will be a withering stare. That or I’ll give them a haircut.
I’ve cut my husband’s hair for over 40 years. How did that happen? Well, one day he came home for lunch and I’d just cut number two son’s hair. Blaine was a toddler. It looked so good hubby said, “why don’t you cut mine?” I was flattered and shocked and, as it turns out, very stupid. At first it was a challenge, now it’s a chore. I mean, c’mon, doesn’t he crave the testosterone laden air of the barber shop? The bonhomie of being barbered? I can’t think of any more alliterative phrases here so I’m hoping you’re getting my drift.
And speaking of Blaine. I cut his and his brother’s hair ever after that, too. Most of the time it turned out okay. But there was this one time. Blaine did not inherit the curls his two brothers did, so his hair had to be dealt with. No hiding my mistakes in the frizz. About half way round his head I over-snipped. I corrected. Then I lost focus chatting with the boy and weird things started happening with the scissors. I forged ahead with some of that bonhomie I just mentioned but it was no good.
I tried to discourage him from looking in the mirror. “Go take a shower and wash off all those clippings,” I said briskly.
But, oh no, he had to look. Upon viewing his sticky-uppy, slightly uneven do, he turned his anguished face to me. “I hate you!”
Slightly wounded, I said back, “Go take a shower, it’ll look better.”
Still at peak volume he says, "Oh, yeah. The magic shower!” And stomps off.
Good thing hair grows.
My own worst experience happened a few weeks after number three son was born. I just needed a couple of hours away ya know? I went to a salon not too far up the road. Never been there and didn’t see the fine print on their advertising stating, If you think you look bad now, wait’ll we get through with you.
This hairdresser seemed so normal, too. Very kindly she asked me what I’d like. I told her. She misinterpreted. “Okay, then. Let’s get rid of the bulk of this right now.” She swooped my hair into a ponytail and chopped – using her best indigenous people’s scalping tool. I gulped and grinned. I looked around. Was that a beaver pelt back there on her office wall? She smiled. And just then I noticed the notches on her leather wristlet. My fate was sealed. When I got home my husband’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “It’ll look better after I go take a shower,” I whispered.
It’s the line I use for all bad haircuts now. We don’t believe in magic, but we have absolute faith in the power of the shower. Please give it a try the next time you’re scalp . . . uh, in for a light trim. Let me know how it works out.
Image: Frankie 242 Free Digital Photos