The Great Haircut Saga of 2011

Here is what I experienced last night, from my wife's perspective.  This is an email she sent to her friends.

I have been thinking for several weeks now that Smalls needs a hair cut.  The more I thought about it, the more I decided I could handle this task myself.  After reading of other people's attempts (and fails) at cutting a toddler's hair, I decided to just wait and take Smalls to see his Big Papa (my dad, a barber) and get his hair cut. 

 

Then we got home yesterday and hopped out of the car.  Smalls's hair flapped over his ears.  "That's it," I thought, "I'm cutting that.  It's clearly bothering him."  He laughed and ran across the yard, chasing our dog, Bosco.  "Yep, totally bothered.  I can cut that and make his life so much better."  He squealed again in delight.  "...SO much better..."

When we got inside, I put Thomas on the TV, gave him a bowl of fruit, and marched to get my scissors.  Lucas said, "You look like a woman on a mission!"  "I am," I said, "Going to make our son's life a million times better," I thought to myself. 

I kneeled beside him and told him to hold still.  He did.  I made a small cut.  "Looks great!  This totally runs in your family!," I thought to myself.  I cut again.  And again.  Getting braver with each clip.  I cut again.  Smalls shivered.  I should have seen the foreshadowing.

I stopped and looked at it.  Oh no.  It's a mess.  It's a choppy mess.  "How did this happen?  I cut the same amount off of each strand.  It should look the same, but shorter."  But it doesn't.  It looks....awful.

Lucas walked in the room and must have seen my face (he didn't have a good look at the boy's head).  "What did you do?" he asked.  I laughed nervously and stammered, "I trimmed his hair!"  Then I lost it.  I was laughing hysterically and Lucas came over to survey the damage.  "You butchered our son's head!"  I'm still laughing, now uncontrollably.  "Call your dad," he commanded.

So I did.  Dad said he could fix it, but not until the next day.  He'd have to go to school like this.  I asked if I should cut the other side, so at least they're the same, or leave him looking like a crazy asymmetrical freak.  He said to go ahead and cut the other side, but to use a comb to pull out some of the hair and see if that helps.

It helped.  So much.  The other side isn't perfect, but buddy, it's a WHOLE lot better than the first attempt.

 

Later Lucas told me the next time he needs his hair cut, we might as well get out the lawnmower and try that.  It couldn't be worse.

Lesson:  Only cut your own hair.  Not your son's.  Especially when your dad is a barber.

Update: We went to the barber shop to see Big Papa tonight, he fixed us up.