Friday, August 29, 2008

The Hack Job... I mean haircut

OK. For the record, Pablo's hair has been getting longer and longer and I have been honestly loving it. I wouldn't want to cut his hair unless he wanted it. However, lately he doesn't want his hair washed because it "takes a hundred million years." Well, I consider myself a speedy hair washer and if it is still taking me this long, then clearly some of his locks need to go. I asked if he wanted a hair cut so it would take less time to wash. He thought about it a few days. I DID NOT BADGER HIM. For the record. I did ask whenever he complained about getting his hair washed. Yesterday he said, "I WANT MY HAIR CUT!"

BEFORE PIC. Not a great shot, but there you go.

So we gathered our stuff and raced to the bathroom, ready for the deed. I started on his bangs. I should have known what was coming, because he started getting jumpy, and not in a good way. Really, I guess there is no good way to jump when scissors are less than an inch from your eyeball. So I did his bangs. He jumped. They became roughly an inch and a half shorter than I intended. Oops. Then I asked if he wanted me to be done.... He said no, he wanted it short all over. I should have known... I should have turned him around and started on the back. Oh, lordy, the things I should have done.

I cut the top layer to match his bang length. He was still for maybe 30 seconds. I got most of the front right quadrant of his head done. Pablo starts squirming. "I AM ALL DONE!" I calmly explained to him how we were too far in to stop now, and he had to wait a while longer. "BUT THIS IS TAKING A HUNDRED MILLION YEARS!!!" I even more calmly explained to him that the more he jumped around, the longer it would take. Then I kept cutting.

We got the front half done. It was lovely. A true mullet. Knock some teeth out of this kid's head and he would fit in at any rodeo. And he was D-O-N-E. I admit it. We could have stopped. With the mullet. But my ego got in the way. Also the fact that the bulk of his hair was still long and he would fight me about washing it. But mostly it was the mullet. Seriously. I don't know any 80's rocker who could have done better. eek.

I made him turn around so I could cut the tail off the mullet head. He was dancing and squirming and shrieking with pretend fear every time I picked up the scissors. It needed to get done. So I started hacking away. In a minute he was screaming for real (and not because it looked that bad... I was the one screaming from the fashion side of things) because he was SOOOOO DONE with being still. At this point his hair looked like some runway hairstyle gone terribly wrong (btw, do they do the hair on runway models so badly so the clothes look good in comparison? Just wondering.). I swear, the last 5 snips took twice as long as the whole rest of the cut. He was crying and screaming and generally losing it. He wanted to run out of the room and leave a trail of hair bits along behind him. I kept telling him we could take a break, he could have a bath, and we could come back to the haircut later. That was not good enough for my poor tortured boy. So we negotiated and negotiated.

Finally, his hair was "done." Ignore the 3 inch long strands around his ears. Ignore the uneven bangs and neck line. Ignore the uneven layering. Heck, just please ignore the WHOLE thing. And forgive me my ego. Because everyone is going to look at him for the next 3 months and then look at me and ask, "Did you cut his hair?" I will shamefacedly nod, unable to utter a word. They will try to look polite and say, "It's... cute." But I know they are thinking, "God, anyone who can hold scissors thinks they can cut hair. And that poor boy has to go around looking like a goon just so his mom can save a few bucks." Should I put a little sign on the back of all his shirts saying, "Really I CAN cut hair. Just not on a whirling dervish in motion. YOU try it."?

Here are the shots. Oh mama, you are a foolish, foolish girl. Maybe I can talk him into dreadlocks....

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