Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Bald isn't always beautiful

Art Linkletter said “Kids say the darndest things” but I would have to add that they “do the darnest things” too.

Will decided to trim his beard but boo booed over his sideburn and cut a chunk out of it. “I looked like Nicholas Cage, and I had to do something about it.”

His solution was to shave the rest of his head to match the 1/32nd length sideburn.

He came downstairs happy. Since he could not see the back of his head, a tuft of hair stuck up about 1 ½ inches and reminded me of a Kewpie doll. The skin was nicked all over. Nothing was straight and his deep black hair contrasted with his pearly white scalp.

I kept repeating, “Dad’s going to freak.” Sadly, it was Mom freaking out.

“Son, you look like you belong to a cult. Turn around. The back isn’t straight and there’s a patch of hair sticking straight up that needs to be clipped. My carpet has more height. Matter of fact, the dogs have more hair than you.”

“Mom, just cut off the bad parts and fix it.”

“The next time you think about cutting your hair, let a barber do it, OK?
You do know that your head is going to stick to the pillow for the next two weeks.”

“I’m glad I did it. I always wanted to know what I would look like with a shaved head. Besides, it’ll grow back.”

“Just make sure you wear a hat in the sun, your head hasn’t seen sunshine since you were born. People are going to stare at you.”

“I took a picture of my head and put it on my Facebook account. I’ve already gotten 3 “likes” from it.”

“Are these people bald?”

Later on, I found Will rubbing his head, like he used to do with his “Bunny”.
No doubt, it felt like a velvet pillow.

Secretly, Scott would say “Hare Krishna” when we saw him. And I would be stunned to see his head in the sunlight.

“What’s the best thing about a bad haircut? Two weeks” Scott would say.
Two weeks had better fly.

I can’t lock him up until the hair grows back.

Ever have a bad hair day? I'd love to hear about it at aitken.helen@gmail.com

Have a long hair day.

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