Hair

Over the winter weeks, I let my hair go. It got a little bit longer and scruffier, which annoys me but my wife likes it so I let it fly. I've been cutting my own hair, closely, for years. The last time I had paid for a haircut I believe was for my college graduation. A long, long time ago. Yes, even for my wedding a few years ago I entrusted my hair with none other than my own two hands.

I thought my curling locks puffing out looked as I called it "apostolic", a term that amused me to no end but apparently holds no humor for others (especially Lisa). After returning from Illinois I let it go another week and cut it back again, like a gardener sheering the leaves of the greenery in front of the homestead... but I left it a little longer than usual. I listened. People told me on a few occasions that they thought it looked good a little longer on top. I always esteemed for a military hairdo but maybe that's not the most stylish selection.

So I turned to Sonya. She's got long hair, always has. It's not a joke to say that the combined hair length of all of her daycare companions would not equal her length. I feel this need to cut it back to even out the parts longer than the shorter sections. It's all growing in, but she was not born with hair uniformly and she pulled out a clump in the back of her head. Maybe it's because I am not cutting my hair that I feel the desire to cut her hair. We've decided to let that baby's hair come as it will though. Someday we'll get into trimming her hair, but it seems a shame to be trimming what so many babies would love to have - er, their parents I mean.

I remember in college a friend and I splurged on clippers and did what we thought was only prudent and shaved as many heads as would sit before us. It was a short-lived trend in the dorm. Most memorable was one guy who demanded that I trim him a little without shaving and without making his head into a mushroom. Of course, he asked for a very short length on the sides, refused to let me touch the top, and ran away in a panic when I tried to convince him to let me do my thing. Here's a guy who asks me not to do a thing, then allows me to only do that which results in that which he fears, then runs away when I attempted reason. It was very amusing. So, if anyone wants me to buzz them a little, I've got some clippers and some experience shaving heads!

The best memory I have of haircuts was when I actually went to a friend's house in high school specifically to get a completely shaven head. This, one would think, could not be fouled up. As it turned out, he put the clippers to my forhead and carved a stripe into my hair down the center of my scalp. Then the clippers completely broke and would cut no more. We drove around a few houses in search of replacement clippers in what was a rather frantic and infuriating time for myself. Could there be any worse a fate than a horrible haircut in high school? Well, I got my wishes and got a bald head, which I am sure many considered a horrible haircut anyhow.

I always liked the bald head for the ease of care. In college I delivered flowers to Lisa one evening without a hat on. She loves telling others this story because for her the highlight was the smoke trails drifting off the top of my dome. I suppose that might be her favorite haircut story?

I'm guessing Sonya's favorite haircut story won't involve bald heads, broken clippers, or flowers. But it just might feature Lisa or myself as we're intending to tend to her hair for many years to come. Something for us all to look forward to as a family.