Haircut Day

The boy's whimsical blonde locks were starting to turn into 'I'm starting a grunge band' hair, so it was time for a haircut. We've been going to a series of haircutteries for the boy in search of the correct combination of cheap and decent with mixed results.

I discovered the national chain wins on price, but their haircuts make him look like the fifth Beatle in the early 60s. A locally-owned kid's haircut shop is EXPENSIVE, I like to support local business, and they cater to youngins. But they were having a "Princess" makeover party with about 8 squealing girls all getting makeup, hair, and dresses at the time. I learned that my limit on squealing little girls is somewhere between zero and naught point one. My little girl's 4th Birthday party might be my undoing. I digress.

Probably the best combination was the sports shop that offered a decent haircut at a slightly elevated price, with the added bonus of ESPN and/or sporting events on tv throughout the whole place for Daddy to enjoy. But we decided to try yet another option this time around, this one a bit more budget-conscious.

I haven't paid for a haircut since W.'s first term. You see, I suffer from a condition known in the medical community as 'Ridiculous Cow-Lickitis'. My haircuts generally consist of purchasing a $13 set of clippers at Target and letting the wife have at me with the 1/8" guard. Occasionally, she says, "Oops" and I look goofy for a few weeks. Let's face it, I'm not cool, "Oops" is not a problem.

After careful consideration, "If he looks like a white supremacist, it will only be for a few weeks" and "How much will therapy cost if he panics with clippers near his head?", we decided to go for it.

My first thought when I finished was, "I shall call him....Mini-Me."

My second thought was, "Good lord, if he robs a liquor store, they might nab me instead."

Now that he has my haircut, nose, lips, eyes, chin, devious smile, mannerisms, penchant for insanity, ears, neck, body type, butt, head shape, feet, and hands, I'm pretty sure the paternity test on Jerry Springer will be conclusive.

We've had a few days to adjust to it, and I love it. When it's 95 degrees and 95% humidity, it has to be better for him. It also helps me get away with farting since the wife can't tell who's who and what kind of a terrible person yells at a toddler for having gas? Finally, the cost is JUST right at $0. And he already looked goofy, he is my kid after all.

CK