Haircuttery

Q. Did you get your hair cut?

A.  No, I got them all cut.

This is what my geometry teacher in highschool used to say when we asked him if he just had a haircut.  This then necessitated a hardy, har, har followed by an inordinate amount conversation about our own hairstyles until the geometry teacher was forced to whip chalkboard erasers at…those people with the best hairstyles.  Or…at those people who may have been talking too much ABOUT their hairstyles.

I think I may have just discovered why I hate geometric proofs.

Where I was really going with all this is that my sisters and I recently had a conversation about the haircuts our mother used to give us.  All I’ll say here about those haircuts is that they involved a bowl and scotch tape and people thought I was a boy up until last year.

But that conversation got me thinking about them-there bowl cuts and how they must’ve been pretty cheap, what with the cost of bowls and tape being almost nil.  And…hey, I need a cheap haircut!  However, since I live in opposite world, I asked my DAUGHTER to cut my hair (and to please leave out the tape and bowl part).

For about ten minutes leading up to the event, we discussed how much to take off.  Not much!  Just to there!! [Said the pretty lady in the mirror demonstrating the slim inch of hair she wanted off.]  Sissy confirmed time and time again: Yeah, yeah, just about an inch.  An inch.  Only to take off the frazzled ends.  Just an inch.

Trustingly, I leaned back in the kitchen chair so that my long and beautiful locks could flow unencumbered down my back.  When I heard snip, snip I thought Sissy was just warming up the scissors, getting’ the feel of her tools and such.  But then Sonny walked into the room and said, “Oh my GOSH, Sissy! What are you DOING?!  Mom, she just cut off SO MUCH of your hair!!!”

What??  WHAT?!?  I jumped out of the seat and looked down at the floor.  There was a good THREE INCHES of hair pooled there while Sissy just stood by, innocently holding the weapon of mass destruction in her hand.

I thought we agreed: ONE INCH!!!

Her reply?  “Naw, it all had to come off.”

Alrighty then, let that be a life lesson to ya: when you ask the girl who’s all in, full out in everything she does, to cut your hair just an inch?  She cuts them ALL.  THREE inches.

I didn’t tip her.

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