The Haircut

Tuesday night Rio informed me that his hair was way too long.  I agreed.  So I trimmed it for him.

"Mom...are you almost done?" he complained standing in the middle of the bathtub.

"Almost," I stalled, as I trimmed the back of his head. "Hold on," I diverted as I attempted to cut his unforgiving hair. "Okay..." Each cut lead to another cut.  After the front and back were trimmed, my confidence with the scissors grew and I went for the layers. "I got it!"

I stood back and looked proudly at my masterpiece. I put my fingers on top of his head and shagged his hair. I must say, his hair looked pretty darn good. WET!  But when it dried, it was obvious, I'm not a professional. 

"Rio, come in here," I said, guiding him by his hand into my bathroom.

"Oh, no...not more mom," Rio pleaded as he stood on top of the toilet.

"Real quick!" I promised.  "You can't go to school like that."  I took out the scissors and cut more. Someone should have stopped me.

"Are you done yet?" Rio asked.  "I know, hold on, okay, you got it," he laughed as he imitated me.

Feeling guilty for what I had done, I called my husband in for approval.  He didn't let me off the hook, instead he glared at me with eyes that asked Why? What have you done to his hair?  

"Oh come on!  It's not that bad!" I lied.

So I'm that mom! The mom who sends her child to school after butchering their hair.

"Did anyone notice your hair today at school?" I asked reluctantly.

"No, nothing, no one," he answered. "But I did get some funny looks," he confirmed my fears.

I took him for a real haircut immediately. 

When the girl at the salon looked at me funny...I blamed my husband.