Haircut Horror

Today Bennett had his first haircut.

Think you've had an awful haircut? Then I've got a story for you, my friend.

See, I had gotten tired of all the "mullet" jokes, and B's hair had officially reached the length where I could braid and put beads in it. Not that I had done that. Not once. Even if it did give him a rakish "professor that you smoke pot with" kind of look.

In theory.

Anyway, after talking with girlfriends who cut their kids' hair, and reading a few online resources, it seemed super easy.

Or at least easier than taking two toddlers to a salon and wrangling them while some poor stylist tried to cut his hair.

Over the weekend I had tried to convince his daddy to take him to a place that specializes in kid's cuts. But John felt that hair was something best left up to a mommy's discretion, and it seemed like more effort than it was worth.

So thus, today I whipped out my handy haircutting scissors and decided to give it a go.

I mean, how hard could it be?

I flipped the TV on and put on some nauseatingly annoying children's show, gave B a pile of enticing snacks, and wet his hair down.

The back came out okay, slightly less crooked than a politician. Which means its far from ideal, but he was not nearly as patient as those online resources would lead you to believe. Big shocker, I know.

The final step they advised was trimming around his ears to give it a "clean look". And this lead us to the mayhem of the day.

I had cut around about 75% of his right ear, and was getting ready to finish it up when he suddenly jerked his head towards me.

Of course I was in mid cut, and somehow managed to take a nice chunk out of the top of his ear in one fell swoop.

He screamed loudly, it bled profusely. Everyone was miserable with the outcome.

After that, there was no way in hell I was going to try trimming around the other ear. Primarily because I was scared shitless of cutting him again, but also because he jumped about a mile every time he saw the scissors.

Which means, I now have a baby boy with one ear neatly trimmed around (mostly), the other ear hidden behind a screen of hair, and the back a good bit crooked.

Oh yeah, and a baby who closely resembles Vincent van Gogh.

If I wasn't P.O.T.Y. (Parent Of The Year) before, I definitely am now...

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