After two years of growing his hair well past his shoulders, the little lad went in for a ‘trim’ to a salon with his mum. He’s been talking about it for a few days, since he’s starting in a new school in a couple of days. He had asked my opinion a few times, and getting a ‘haircut’ was simply unacceptable to him (and my joke about getting one like mine was heresy!)
And so it began late this afternoon, the hairy saga.
Bad haircuts are rarely disastrous. Even when they seem so, it’s only temporary until the hair grows back (or you get a wig). That wisdom comes after years of haircuts (or balding, as I am).
For an adolescent though, they are worse than disastrous. They turn into a a time sink. The haircut, done by a young lady who may have thought him a girl, does accentuate his dimples and give him a sharply feminine look. He’s been staring at himself in the mirror, rearranging his crowning glory, constantly asking both his sister & I to opine on his appearance. The sunk cost – twice what it would cost at his (not recently) usual barber – has driven a different conversation between his mum & I. Lots of perspectives have ensued, including a friend who’s staying over and has no background to this saga adding fuel to the hairy fire.
Tomorrow will see him get another haircut – and many internet searches are now being conducted to see what might be suitable. Peace may finally reign in the household on this subject.