When I was a kid I wanted to be a hairdresser. Luckily for me my "when I grow up" dreams changed because I definitely ain't very good with the scissors. Nor the clippers it seems.On Tuesday night Darby asked if I could cut off his surfer dude locks. It seems he'd had enough of the Bieber and wanted the hair out of his eyes. It was time for a spike. No worries! I can do that. Let me just find my clippers ...
There is nothing Edward Scissorhands about me. I think I may actually be in the running for a part in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. No, even a chainsaw would have done a better job. My attempts at a buzz cut were more hack-saw than chainsaw. I don't know what is going on with the clippers (perhaps they're just cheap or old or blunt or his hair was too long) but I reckon a pair of toe nail clippers would have done a better job.
Anyway, after lots of cutting, clipping, hair pulling, eyes watering and painful squeals I resigned to the fact that I'd butchered my sons hair. This beautiful blonde boy looked like the victim of a bully crime. Luckily he has a good sense of humour and we laughed it off with "she'll be right mate" attitude. He went to school yesterday with hair product gluing everything in place in a somewhat dude-like style and then as soon as the bell rang we had an emergency dash to our friendly neighbourhood hairdresser to fix things up.
She strongly suggested I throw away the clippers. Darby seconded that motion. It seems my days as a hairdresser are done before they've even begun.
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