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April 1, 2020

A haircut that resembles, well . . . (plus retro bonus pics of my littles for some feel good fun)


Welcome to my workshop.
First off, I want to point out that I gave Tank, Reg, Coach, and Ed haircuts about 30 minutes AFTER we realized that Lad had darted off to the airport using our funds.  To fly to New York.  Against our wishes.  I think I should be commended for not accidentally-on-purpose giving anyone a mohawk. 

I was given poor marks for Reggie's cut.  I am sorry I don't have any photos of it, but I fixed it yesterday.  He was fine with the original cut but felt one side was a tad longer than the other.  I am used to SHORT cuts.  That was never an issue back in the day.  The boys WANTED their hair kept very short.  Now the boys want to grow their hair longer or a little longer or longer on top or whatever.  This is not an easy adjustment for a woman with a clippers, mind you.  

Retro:  Tank when I let it
 grow and loved it!  While we were
eating at Cinderella's castle in Disney,
the waiter took Tank's order by asking,
 "And for the princess?"
 The cousins roared with laughter.
 Coach looked at me and mouthed the
 words from across the table:
 You are cutting his hair
when we get home.
Reggie had not had a haircut in close to forever.  The last time I cut his hair I thought I was repeating everything I had done at the prior haircut aka 'the time before', but I am officially old and my mind cannot be trusted.  For the 'time before' haircut I apparently did not utilize the clippers on the top part at all.  Just scissors.  Oops.  He was not happy that I used the clippers on the top of his hair, so this time I followed his instructions closely.  

Coach, who I am making out lately to be an old fart what with his pillow fear and his forbidden movie issues, is not on board with long haired boys.  "He needs a haircut.  Who cares what he wants?  Cut it short."  Is my husband starting to remind you of those people in the commercials where they start to act like their parents . . . fiddling with the thermostat or needing a cardigan?  No comment.  
Retro:  Ed on the beach downtown Chicago. 
Probably my favorite photo of him.
 His hair is NOT that color anymore. 
 

I get that times they do-a-change, so I am OK with them having input on their hair, so I felt really bad when I screwed up Reggie's hair last time by using the clippers and making the top slightly shorter than what he wanted.  It didn't look bad but the top length was not what he anticipated. 

Retro Lad:  age 7 -
when haircuts
 were handled by clippers
 and super easy!
As a result, it got really bushy - like out of control bushy.  He was begging me for a haircut.  I prefer outdoor haircuts because the cleanup is so much simpler.  I looked at the forecast and agreed to 'Thursday'- not knowing haircuts would pop up on a Thursday when I was ticked off as all get out.  

Tank would not let this recent nice-weather-Thursday-when-I-was-ticked-off-at-Lad haircut rest.  He kept pulling up photos of Hitler followers, claiming that I had turned Reg into a small Hitler disciple.  I cut Reg's hair short on the sides, per his request and then I tried to taper it off a bit while leaving the top longer, floppier, cooler.  You know, I am one hip lady-ee.  

I dragged him back out to the porch yesterday and fixed it - making the tapered parts more tapered so there wasn't so much division between his shorter sides and his floppiness.  

This is a screenshot of Reg
who was supposed
to be taking a video of Curly dancing to
send her teacher but he had it on selfie mode.
 Not a great angle to see the hair,
 but you get the idea.  
I must admit, it reminded me of my freshman year college roommate.  She wore her hair short on the sides but bushy on top, curled under but slightly feathered - the top kinda looked like a Dorothy Hamel on steroids.  She worked that top of her hair to be quite fluffy.  

This is the back of Tank's head -
Reg had a similar mop thing going on.
We got a message once on our answering machine.  A prank phone call from some boys at Notre Dame.  There was a thing called a Dog Book, don't ask.  Well, if you insist.  It had photos of all the freshman girls and boys at Saint Mary's and Notre Dame.  You could call people up and ask for a date to a dance - like blind dates.  Or you could ask your roommate to call for you and ask a certain cute someone from the Dog Book to a dance.  

As previously mentioned - I am old as time and so this was a century before Facebook.  Same concept, but just not digital and no arguing over the rights of the idea, so not worth making a movie about.  No one wondered if we should call it 'The Dog Book' or just 'Dog Book.'  
More old people evidence here:  we had an answering machine in our room hooked to a landline, imagine?  Anyway, the prank message went something like this:  "Hey we are looking for Corrine.  We are just wondering why you wear your hair to look like a penis? (sound of a roomful of guys busting out laughing in the background)."

Ouch.  I got to admit though, once they mentioned it I saw their point.  

9 comments:

StephLove said...

He went to New York with your money, against your wishes? Wow.

We didn't cut Noah's hair until he was 3 (which isn't as long as it sounds because he was nearly bald for the first two years of his life). It got almost down to his shoulders.

Kari Wagner Hoban said...

Wait. Am I missing something? He went to NY?? NOW??

I cut my husband's hair for years. Of course, he wears it like he's in Army basic training so it's quite easy.

I love that picture of Ed up there on the beach in Chicago. He looks like the perfect mix of both of you.

Ernie said...

Steph- Yes, Lad flew back out to school and would not listen to reason. We drove out the next day and cleared out his apartment. Total shit head move. It happened last week - I think, but I am just getting around to describe the haircuts that happened less than an hour after we were calling him at the airport telling him NOT to get on the plane.

Kari - You met me, right? I NEVER stop talking - remember? So . . . my blog posts are sometimes spread out over several days because who would read a 25 page post? This is what happened right after Coach continued to call Lad and try to convince him not to get on the plane after he didn't come home from work WHEN I TOLD HIM TO. Like I don't call work often to say emergency, but this time - I DID!

Anyway, that is over and this is the next part of the story - the haircuts that could have been SO MUCH WORSE. Ed is a 100% Shenanigan - all Coach's side. He has a little cousin who is like 10 who lives up near you. He is freakishly Ed's long lost twin. So funny!

Coach rocks the basic training look and has not been to a barber since we were first married, so like 23 years. That's some pocket change saved, right?

Ernie said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Bibliomama said...

Yeah, your husband is sounding a bit "get off my lawn" lately. Angus grew his hair long last year and we HATED it, but the thing is, it's his head, and he has bodily autonomy. You could hear the cheer from Ottawa all over the world when he finally cut it again though. Now he wants to bleach his beard. Oh well, if it's bad he can shave it. Or not. It's not like we're going anywhere.

Ernie said...

Ali - Ha! So true. Coach is better at dealing with Laddie though, so I will continue to keep him on the payroll. Lad grew his hair long when he was a freshman in college and there was much rejoicing when he cut it. I think he tends to care more about the kids that live under our roof, but still. I am all for them having some input, but that might be because I survived a childhood where my run-a-muck Dorothy Hamel hairdo was forever misshapen once I left the salon with the straight edge razor blade my mom utilized to deliver a homemade haircut. I literally ALWAYS looked like a boy and just wanted long hair and was NEVER allowed to grow it out. Is that barbaric? I swear it was borderline child abuse. To this day my two sisters and my mom wear their hair in boy-length short styles. Enough said? (And by the way - short hair looks great on some people and I am not opposed to short hair in general, but I just found my mom's controlling hair thing suffocating so now I cannot have my hair that short).

Nicole MacPherson said...

I wish I knew how to cut hair. My boys are going to look like Shaggy from Scooby Doo after this is done. However! I'm a big believer in the "it's just hair, it can change" philosophy. Other than my OWN hair, I'm pretty obsessed with my own hair - but I have hair colour in my cupboard now so at least there's that.

Busy Bee Suz said...

I was a working hairstylist for many years, so I always cut the family's hair. But, when my mom was sick (4 years? 5?) I was in Atlanta for long gaps and the coach had to visit a barber; the first time in 25-28 years?
Turns out, I liked how the barber did it, so he's been going there. It looks like I'll have to dust off my clippers soon.

What's the deal with your husband; does he know he's turning into his Dad right before our eyes? If you tell him that, I'm sure he'll lighten up a bit. LOL!!

Your kids are so freaking adorable; with good cuts or not.

Ernie said...

Nicole - I just said to Mini yesterday on our walk - imagine how flipping busy hair places are going to be when this is over. Lines out the door. The woman that cuts our hair (Mini and I) JUST opened her own salon 6 months ago after working in other salons forever. She started a GoFundMe page to try to stay a float. So nerve wracking. I contributed and hope she makes it through this.

Suz - A hairstylist - so you know your way around a clippers then. That's funny that you retired early from your Coach's hair. My Coach once tried to use the clippers on his own hair. I don't remember the story - I think he thought I missed a spot. It was after a few beers and I was like 8 plus months pregnant with Lad. Anyway, he messed it up tremendously. I did my best to fix it, but the photos from when we welcomed our firsts born always remind me of his first and last attempt at taking charge of his own hair.

And, YES - he is turning into his father. Like really NOT a good thing. I cannot mention this to him because there is no higher insult. There are a few other instances I haven't even shared here, but suffice to say I am shaking in my boots looking at our future retirement with a whole new perspective. It does not help that he is a brown haired version of his father. In a word, his dad is an ASS. *heavy sigh*

Remember, I wrote about when people think the babies I sit for are mine . . . 'Oh, no not mine- mine are cuter than this.' Only slightly partial. :)