The 15 Year Hair Cut!

Today we had to drop off packages at the GoodWill. Little did Robert know, but I had secretly decided to take him to get his hair cut. This was no ordinary hair cut. No, this was the “last time I saw the barber was 15 years ago” hair cut. Through the years, Robert managed to cut his own hair and trim his own beard (when he grew one) with fair success. But his hair had become a little long and unruly over the past six months.
chewbacca
Here is a before picture. So as you can see, I HAD to do something. When we got loaded in the car, I said to him,”Honey, you are going to have to bite the bullet and get your hair cut.” Robert then squirms in his chair like our 4 year old does when he has to go potty. “I don’t need to go get my hair cut. I can do it my self!” He whines (again, like our 4 year old). So I give him the puppy-dog eyes and the “Won’t you do it for me???” speech. Yeah, THAT one. The one I am secretly teaching our daughter to do.
He agrees to go to a barber, not a salon. “Salon’s are for girls.” he adds. So we pass salon, after salon, after salon and finally spot a place called Sports Cutters. We park, Robert goes in with our daughter Eden while I stay in the car with 2 sleeping babies. Ten minutes later, he comes back–all hairy still (see picture above). I said, with an annoyed tone “What’s the problem!” He then preceded to say something about how it was too much like a salon, there was only one woman cutting hair, CNN was too loud on the TV…ya’da, ya’da, ya’da…So I put my book on meditation down, threw a hissy-fit (like my 6 year old) and yell “You’re acting like a baby! The place is called Sports Cutters. It can’t be a salon. FINE! Lets just go some where else.”

A couple of miles of silence later, we pull into a strip mall hoping to get a bite to eat at a chinese buffet. Low and behold right next door to the restaurant is John’s Barber Shop. We all travel in this time and take a seat along a row of uncomfortable, deli-style chairs. A nice looking woman, with a waist about the size of my right thigh, motioned for Robert to come up and sit in the stylist chair. She said, “What would you like done?” “Everything!” I shouted. “Please, just clean him up some.”

Well to keep a not so long story even shorter…30 minutes and $25 dollars later, he was finished! I don’t remember the last time I saw my husband’s ears. Or have seen him so well groomed. Maybe on our wedding day almost 8 years ago. Needless to say, I am very happy now that I can see the face of my very handsome and dashing young husband. I took a picture because I know that it will probably be another 15 years before I get him back to a salon…I mean a barber!

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