Monday, November 14, 2011

Hair Today, Gone Today

My husband made me cut his hair tonight. I want you to understand this clearly. I like cutting some hair, just not my husband's. Most of the time, I end up crying at some point while cutting Neil's hair. I don't offer to do it. He makes me. Why? No, he's not a control freak or anything like that. He wants to save money. There is just cause for him to assume that I would have no problem with this. I willingly cut and color my own hair when funds are tight and our ten year old daughter's hair as well, plus our thirteen year old lets me do hers sometimes too. However, admittedly, I have been banned for life at least once from ever touching her hair again. I must point out that the ban has been lifted. I cut and colored it tonight and she seems satisfied or perhaps just terrified to appear unhappy for fear of my reaction.

I have absolutely no formal training whatsoever, but I swear I can do a pretty decent job just from the experience of watching my hairdressers over the years. I've messed around with my own hair enough to have a little practical experience too. My hair, no problem. My youngest daughter's hair, no problem. She could care less as long as she doesn't look like a dork, which I would never do to her. My oldest daughter, well, she lets me do it when the mood strikes her or I tell her we don't have the $80 for the salon right now.

But my husband's hair... oh, my husband and his dark, thick, short hair. I fear this cut. I loathe this cut. I would rather sell my soul on a street corner than to cut his hair. Well, that's a bit extreme, but you know what I mean. I've accompanied him to many a haircut and I know how particular he is about his hair and I don't want him to look like a dork either, see.

Tonight was the night. He's been begging me for days to do it and finally he looked scraggly enough that I decided I'd better give it the old college try. I reviewed the previous attempts in my head, me in tears and him frustrated and saying, "Just do it!" and me boo-hooing, "But I don't know how!" and him trying to convince me that if I can cut everyone else's hair, I can do his too. But he wants me to use an electric razor on his. Yeesh! It might as well be brain surgery, really. I am so uncomfortable with those things!

So I decided to throw caution to the wind and "just do it" tonight and see what happened. Shoot, he had to shave his own head bald once because he tried to cut it himself once and screwed it up, so how bad could it really get for me? I didn't stress out. I didn't cry. I just did it -- and guess what, it turned out fine. I even remembered to take my bra off this time. Wait, I forgot to mention that part.

Now, you might think that the removal of the bra thing was for entertainment purposes or simply a ploy to distract him from the haircut, but you'd only be right on one of those. The distraction did seem to help relax him. However, the real reason for the bra removal is that the last time, even though I had a shirt on over it, I somehow ended up with little tiny pieces of hair in my bra which poked me mercilessly for what seemed like an eternity after the haircut. It was probably only a few weeks, pulling tiny hairs out of the fibers of my bra interior with my fingernails substituting as tweezers extracting teensy-weensy but very irritating splinters. I looked like some sort of wacko, suddenly peering madly into my shirt like a crazy person and muttering, "What the...What the heck is poking me!!!???" Even laundering the offending bra didn't help, so I vowed, "No poke in the boob this time!" I've decided I'm removing the bra from here on out. It was better for both of us, really. And he sure enjoyed the haircut more.

And no, fellas, I am not going to take off my bra and cut your hair. Make your own wife "just do it". Then treat her really, really nice for the rest of your life because your hair is literally in her hands and a woman with scissors and a razor aimed at your noggin can be quite a dangerous thing indeed.


  1. Cindy, came your way via She Writes--these posts made me laugh...I cut everyone's hair in our family--that makes five...and my sons have been the brunt of my learning curve (mixing up the 1 setting with the 5 on the electric...even right now I can't remember which is which--I just know someone had very little hair after one cut). Humor seems to become more and more important the older I get...and I don't like to think of myself as old...but...the cops are sure looking young young young to me lately.

    Will be back to enjoy more of your humor--the Alda dream cracked me up too...

  2. Now that's an original haircut, I'm sure you're going to continue to be in demand. My husband cuts his own hair and so never spends a dime at the hairdresser, so I couldn't wait to tell him about my recent invitation from a girlfriend.

    I live in Aix en Provence in the South of France and my dear friend from Tuscon who misses haircuts from the home country is getting desperate and asks me if I will come with her to get a haircut - in Paris! Unfortunatley I don't suffer as much from the memory of great haircuts in other countries and knew I would have difficulty putting together a reasonable argument in favour - but I did enjoy the look on his face when I casually mentioned my invitation to me husband.

    So how far would you travel for a great haircut? And how would hubby react?

  3. Hi Cindy,
    After reading your post at She Writes, where you said you were funny, I had to come and check it out for myself. And, yes folks, it's true. I enjoyed your post here and have joined your blog for more. If you have a minute, check out my writer's blog at:

  4. Hi Cindy, I cut (or more appropriately buzz) my husband's hair regularly. He like a number one, which leaves a stubble. A few months ago, he (not I) forgot to put the guard on before handing me the clippers. Confidently, I took my first swipe up one side of his head from side burn to crown. I was shocked to see a landing strip of bald scalp. I started to laugh uncontrollably, doubling over for fear of wetting my pants. My husband kept saying, "What's wrong? What's wrong?" I couldn't catch my breath long enough to answer. He goes to the barber shop now.

    Nice to meet you,
    Judith Marshall
    Author of "Husbands May Come and Go but Friends are Forever," optioned for the big screen

  5. Hi Cindy, Elise here also by way of She Writes. The only time I ever cut anyone's hair was my poor younger sister's about 40 years ago. I kept trying to even it out and she ended up with a bowl cut that started mid-ear. She wouldn't go to school the next day it was so bad. And I never tried it again, except maybe to trim my little ones' wispy bangs or something. I write about personal journey, life lessons, and family over at Come on by!

  6. hah! lollolololol! You ARE funny - I laughed inside and out over the haircut! Really funny. Great writing too. Mari

  7. I put your blog on the SheWrites bloggers page at my blog, I can't reach my own hair to cut it any more.

  8. I'm sure this is the real reason he insists that you cut his hair. :-) I wouldn't cut my husbands hair, regardless of how much money we saved. I decided when we were first married I wasn't going to wash clothes either. I died all his undies pink. Twenty years later he washes the clothes, I fold. A girl has to draw the line somewhere. However, the braless cut is probably a good business idea in the current economy.