The Barber Story
One of my most shocking days have had something or the other to do with hair. I will not mention my hair because… well, Rupenzel isn’t real enough to give me hair tips. But my son, aha… that is one disaster after another.
When he was small, we had fights at the salon … complete with three men holding him and things flying around everyone, one of them being bitten and the other falling off. Haircuts were nightmares. Then, we found this colourful place with children’s decor, little cars and ten cute barbers all of whom trained to handle little heads. Son loved the place. They even gave lollypops to good boys. Eversince then, haircut day is the best time of the month for my son. For me, it is that time when I have to keep all my senses alert and keep a stern eye for the complete 20minutes to make sure neither my husband nor the barber give my son anything less or more than what I want. Trust me that is not a simple thing and most of the times, I fail.
Once, we had the kid looking like an egg-head, then the next time I couldn’t notice the difference that his hair had been cut at all and then there was a filipino look, the egyptian and well… we have had accidents. Everytime, it is ofcourse with both son and Dad saying, it is only hair, it will grow back. Things started to look good when we finally found a barber who knew how to make my son look like my son. That was one time we came home so happy. We decided to stick to him. The next trip was around prayer time. We waited and then finally, when the shop opened and the barbers started coming in, we suddenly couldnt remember what he looked like. They all wore white, they all had the same hair style and two of them were twins. It had to be one of the twins. We stared at both and then decided on the one who looked more like what we thought he looked like. He started to work when in the middle of it all we turned around and to our shock see our barber coming into the shop! They were three brothers or they were triplets! Yes, we came home with a bad haircut but the next month we caught him and since then we have been having him cut our son’s hair.
This guy, he loves to cut hair… I mean, he enjoys it. I have never seen anyone actually enjoy cutting hair. You should see him in action to see what I mean. A trim here, a trim there, a buzzzzzz here and a buzzzzzz there, getting down to my son’s level and squinting to see if it is right, crazy side locks .. it is as if he is playing with him. Son is full of giggles and the end result is good. Ofcourse, we get entertained too. He knows what style goes at what time of the year and how son would like his hair. This time, it was a surprise again. It was crowded and since dad had everything under control, I stayed away. When I returned my son had a close crop hair style with spikes sticking at the top back and a twisted mohawk at the front of his head. It was all held together with a strong hold gel. He wanted it, was what Hubby and the barber said. I am really thankful to the barber for just shaping it with gel and not cutting it that way. I still like him. Atleast, it washed off.
