Chopped!

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Chopped!

Well, I did it. I finally got up the nerve to get my hair cut. It’s only been <ahem> 8 months or so since I visited a salon.

I typically do go a very long time between cuts because, well, it’s just hair and ponytails are my friend. (Jim has no idea how lucky he is to have such a low-maintenance wife). This time, though, was an exceptionally long time from one cut to the next, thanks to Covid. First visiting a salon was impossible; now …

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A hairy issue

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troll doll

I have worn my hair long the majority of my life. From my earliest years, when my mom would cut my bangs straight across my forehead and the rest would hang long down my back, to my high school years, my childrearing years and all the years since. Not Crystal Gayle long, but longer than not. Always.

Except for one year. In...

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Hair and hugs

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Mac's hairstylist for the past year or so has been Megan. She was the first to cut his blonde locks, and the only one since.

Last weekend, though, Megan decided to take Mac for his first real haircut. One from a pro, at the place where Bubby regularly gets his hair cut.

Things didn't go so well.

Mac hated the cape and screamed and cried in hopes of having it removed.

So they removed it.

Mac then screamed and cried because he wanted the cape put back on.

So they put it back on.

Then the stylist worked quickly on the haircut while Mac worked just as quickly on a sucker.

Despite the tears and the tantrum and the sticky sucker mess, Mac's first real haircut came out looking pretty darn cute.

Forget the hair, though. All I can see in the photo Megan texted to me is Mac's tears and his expression that says, "Why Mommy? Why in the world did you just put me through that?"

I'm pretty sure Megan was thinking the same thing.

My clean-cut grandkiddo clearly needs a hug.

Megan's voice on the phone relating the ordeal sounded like she needs one, too.

I'm willing to bet Bubby—who was on hand to witness the fun—could go for a hug from Gramma, as well. Just because.

Good thing I'm in the desert today. Have no doubt that Mac, Megan, and Bubby are all getting their fair of hugs from Gramma.

Also have no doubt that Mac does indeed look pretty darn cute in his new-but-not-so-fun-for-anyone 'do.

Today's question:

When did you last cut someone's hair—a child's, an adult's, or your own?

How Grandma sees it: Changes in parenting from the firstborn to the second

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Bubby, my first grandson, at nine months old:

Baby hair everywhere.

 Baby Mac, my second grandson, at nine months old:

Baby hair buzzed.

 To be continued ... !

Today's question:

When did you last cut someone else's hair and how did it turn out?

Go ahead, call me a peeping grandma

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As I was going through some of my photos to create a collage of summer shots I took over the last few months, I came across this:

It first startled me because I don't know those guys. I wondered what kind of ghostly happenings went on with my computer, leaving such a murderous image seemingly straight from a horror flick in my Picasa.

Then I truly laughed out loud as I remembered what it was.

One day in June when Jim was home for lunch, he called me into the kitchen, saying, "You gotta see this ... but don't go past the window." So as I crept into the kitchen, he directed me to look out the dining room window, where what do I behold but barber duty taking place on the deck of our always mysterious, endlessly bizarre neighbors. Hilarious!

This may be illegal ... who knows ... but I slunk way down at the dining room table and shot this with maximum zoom, right through the window. They never even noticed.

Funny thing is, neither of those guys in the photo are our neighbors and we had never seen them next door before. Even funnier: Later that evening there was a whole new set of guys out there -- including our neighbor, the father of one of the guys -- lined up for their turn while all the others gave advice and compliments.

I think somebody got a good deal on a pair of clippers at the flea market then shared his good fortune with his buddies, calling out, "Free summer cuts all around!"

Tomorrow I will post the collage I mentioned. For today, this forgotten photo was just too funny to pass up!

Today's question:

How often do you visit a hair salon and what do you usually have done? (Cut? color? highlights? lowlights?)

Two men and a toddler (haircut)

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Bubby's hair grows like mad, so in an effort to save on the Kiddie Cutters bills, Megan and Preston bought a pair of hair clippers with plans to cut Bubby's locks themselves.

The first hair-trimming session was quite traumatic -- for Megan. Preston started trimming away while Megan cried ... and cried. Her baby was becoming a little boy with every snip. And with Preston never having cut hair before, the snips weren't as perfect as Megan hoped. So Preston would snip again, trying to improve the one that had his wife so upset. Bubby's hair kept getting shorter and shorter as Megan sniffled and Preston snipped.

Bubby, on the other hand, was oblivious to the trauma his parents were going through. He was entranced by his favorite Elmo movie on TV. (Mom and Dad were pretty smart to use that distraction tactic!)

It's been a month since that first cut, and this past weekend, Bubby was in need of another. Even he thought so:

 
 

'LOOK AT THIS MESS!" Bubby wails about his hair. (Not really, but he sure looks like that's the problem.)Time to pull out the clippers for another round. This time, Preston enlisted his buddy Scott to help out with the trimming duties. It's a guy thing, so Megan just stood back with the camera (cracking up instead of crying).

The guys prep the customer:

Scott tests the waters:

Scott snips while Preston holds Bubby still (keeping him from getting the Van Gogh special!):

The final touches:

And TA-DAH! The new and improved Bubby, ready for some swinging!

Who needs Kiddie Cutters when you have Preston and Scott manning the clippers?