Hair cuts

Tom needed a hair cut so I brought out my trusty electric clippers. I put on a #7 and away the hair flew. I left the bangs alone, but everything else was clipped short. It looked great when I was done. I am always a little surprised that Tom still lets me do it. But he hates to bother with going to the barber worse than the the fear I might shave him bald.

I learned my lesson years ago before children. Tom asked me to cut his hair and I used the wrong number. #2 is really short. If he were an army man he would have loved it. I didn't love it. half way through the cut I had to stop and cry. I couldn't continue. Then I laughed, he looked so bad. I left tufts, islands of hair. I knew he must really love me afterwards since he didn't kill me for scalping him. I couldn't keep a straight face when I looked at him it was so bad.

He wore a baseball cap to work the next day. You could tell something was missing under the cap though. So his coworkers tried really hard to knock the cap off to see the new do. He finally just had to show it off to be left in peace. That hair cut got a great laugh at work. He should have just let me finish it, not that there was much left to finish. But I quit before I could clean the edges up. It looked awful. I knew I couldn't take him out in public for weeks, until his hair grew back. Luckily, it grows quickly.

For a while I even hired a stylist to come to the house when Tom needed a cut. He started calling on those days telling me he would be late home due to work. I stopped having the stylist come to the house.

Then there was the time I cut his hair while watching a football game. He says it was my fault, but he was the one that leaped up during a play on TV. I was doing the clean up with the exposed blade. I put a deep trench in the side of his head of hair. Totally destroying a beautiful cut.

I am very careful now. I always let Tom know that I have removed the protective blades when I do the clean up with the exposed short blade. No flinching allowed. "Don't move".

Riley comes downstairs and Tom says he needs a cut also. "Lets look good for the doctor's visit." Riley is not thrilled. He has just come out of the bath. He will need another shower once we are done as his hair makes him itchy after the hair cut. Unlike his father, Riley's hair is more like mine, thin and fine. It flows through the blades without cutting, floating.

First I use the exposed blade to clean up the long sideburns that have been driving me crazy. They were almost long enough to start twirling in his fingers. Then I sneak, while he is not looking or paying attention, and do a quick sweep of his chin. He shrieks, I have cut his beard hairs. These are random long hairs that have grown in on his chin. He is very proud of these nasty inch long random hairs. No one else is growing a "beard" at school. I tell him now that I have cut half, he has to let me finish. He has to let me take off those nasty long hairs on his chin. He looks so much better with them gone. I use the #7 for the rest of his head. I have to hold up his fine hair to get it to cut. His hair stands up on end all over his head. It looks so much better and yet it looks youthful, naturally spiky. He likes it too.

It is too late to tackle Trevor, who has seen what is coming and disappeared to his room already. I will catch him on another day. Trevor has told me he will not get his hair cut until I give him his lunch money back. I told him grades grades grades. I can live with the long hair if it gets the grades. I know Tom will get involved if Trevor really needs a hair cut.