I love my Hubby's hair.
He has been genetically blessed with a full head of thick, soft hair. Growing up in a family where male-pattern baldness rules the day, his hair is a bit of a fascination for me. When my dad realized that he was going bald he decided to do it properly and just started shaving his head completely.
(After that one ill-thought perm. Sorry Dad, that was unforgettable. And yes, I know you were talked into it, but I'll remind you that I was the lone voice of reason. People should listen more to pre-teens.)
Anyway, my dad looks GOOD bald. Before Bruce Willis and Vin Diesel and other Hollywood types made it cool, my dad was already totally rocking the look. My brothers quickly followed suit; not going completely bald but shaving it down with only the #1 guard. You know what? My brothers look good that way too. My family has some nicely shaped heads and brilliant eyes.
(Interesting enough, my middle bro, the only one of us gifted with curl, has let his grow out and now has a totally awesome 'fro. It looks good on him and its nice not being the only one with hair.)
But back to Hubby. Hubby, besides having a LOT of hair, has this adorable cow lick right in the front, so his hair kind of sticks up a bit, all on it's own. He has a natural little spikey-flip going on, without any need for products. Seriously, people pay good money to have hair like my Hubby's is naturally. That little flip? Melts my heart. And my knees.
When we first got together, I was suprised to find out that his mom did his hair. I mean, I knew she did the youngest's hair, but he just got the all over shave, like my brothers. But I found out that she also did Hubby's hair and Father-in-law's hair (who also has that cute flip in the front). I bowed to her hair-styling skillz.
And then Hubby informed me that he expected ME to do his hair now that we were married.
Not a good plan dude! I once tried to trim my own bangs and made a disaster of my hair that took MONTHS to correct. My mom once asked me to trim her bangs....I did but then they were uneven so I tried to even them up...then they were uneven in the other direction, so I tried again to fix them....and so on 'till the poor woman had NO bangs. After that we all agreed that I should just step away from the scissors. Now here's Hubby wanting me to pick them up again? No, no way, no how, not going to happen.
Everyone kept reassuring me, telling me how EASY it is, how anyone can do it! His mom revealed that there was no special skill required, just a straight #4 all over and his hair would naturally do the rest.
Anyone but me, I assured them. I parked myself firmly in fear corner and refused to budge. His mom cut his hair before we were married in August, we made a clipper set one of our first married purchases......and when we returned for Christmas he was a hairy beast.
(He'd also given up shaving just before exams. The one and only time he went crazy and grew a beard).
Being a smart woman, his mom refused to rescue me. She offered use of her clippers but wasn't going to do the job herself.
(This is part of why her children all turned out so well--no enabling.)
By New Year's my friend Tandy took pity on me. Or maybe she just couldn't take the fugly any more. He shaved the face and then she sat him down for a
clearcutting trim. But she's a smart woman too, and she made me watch and gave me instructions. It was being made clear by everyone that next time it was going to be up to me. Thanks A LOT everyone!
So next time it was up to me. And one thing I'd learned--as much as I love Hubby's hair, when it gets too long, it just looks silly. Hubby's boyish charm gets drowned out by his silky tresses. The cute flip becomes a long wave. The 60's start calling in protest.
When they did, we got out the clipper set. There was shaking. There was hyperventalating. There were several "ok, I can do this" with clippers raised, and even more "oh no, I'm going to scalp you" followed by the clippers being dropped back to the counter. Finally, with Hubby doing a great deal of hand holding and soothing talk, and even a little cutting of his own to get things going, I cut his hair.
It wasn't that bad.
Until the next time.
I started getting the hang of it though. I even did the kids' hair, though with the girls I had to go back to scissors and quickly learned that I'm still pretty bad with those. I'm willing to shell out the money to have someone else fix the girls' hair. But I routinely do Hubby's and the Boy's now, with no worries or fear, no hyperventilating or false starts, no complaints from anyone.
Until last night.
(Some of you saw this coming from the first sentence, way back up there at the top.)
Last night all of my worst nightmares came true.
Last night I scalped my sweet, unsuspecting Hubby.
We had taken apart the clippers. They're the same ones we bought when we were married and they're getting tired. We had been talking about getting a new set. We'd discovered that the old set was pretty clogged with hair, and we'd taken them apart to get all of the hair out from under the blades. We put them back together, still chatting away, and I made the first cut.
Without a guard.
Right through that beautiful flip.
I yelped and slapped my hand to the top of his head, then started soothing us both, like we'd just been in a terrible accident.
He was bewildered. He didn't realize yet what his ditzy wife had just done.
But he would. He did. I stepped back, the hair fell away, and there it was...a reverse mohawk.
We both stared in horror. Then we fell to joking. It was that or cry.
"We could do random designs, set a trend."
"You could wear a hat, every single day."
"We'll glue it back on"
"Tell them there was a horrible accident"
We couldn't leave it like that though, so we put the usual #4 guard on and gave him his cut.
You know, it didn't look half bad....from the back.
He still had a landing strip.
We tried the #3, the #2, and finally....the #1.
The #1 worked. Sort of. The landing strip is mostly disguised. But Hubby's hair was NEVER meant to be so short. It really isn't a good look for him.
I managed to mostly forget it while we slept.
And then Sweetpea came in our room this morning and froze.
"What happened to Daddy's hair?" she asked, with tears in her eyes. I explained that I made a mistake and that it would grow back...in about a month or so. She left to get ready for school.
Princess came in to get some help with the buttons on her dress. She, too, was frozen in horror.
"Daddy's HAIR! What happened to Daddy's hair?!"
I think it's going to be a refrain. At least I get to hide out in the house today. He has to go out in public.
He was kind enough to point out that he has a meeting next week. With people from across the province. A big-wig sort of meeting.
I still think we should go with the hat.