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.