What identifying characteristic do Michael Phelps, Tina Fey, Justin Bieber and myself all have in common? Among many others, natural talent.
It was about three short weeks ago that I decided I'd make an amazing hair stylist. All I needed was a mannequin. Short on mannequins, I grabbed the next best thing - the Brain. At first he was all about it. My noble experimentee hopped up on the stool with his chest confidently pressed outward and a big smile on his face. It was around the time that I snapped the #4 guard onto the clippers that I noticed his smile fade away. He had a worried look on his face and he began to ask in-depth fact finding questions that very much matched his facial expression.
Have you done this before?
How close are you gonna get to my ears?
Do ears bleed when they get cut?
If you cut my ear off on accident, does that mean I'm deaf?
If I get deaf, I won't hear you tell me to get off the XBox or to go to bed. Can you just practice on Cara?
After some careful negotiations (30 extra minutes of video games, less work, more pay, and better benefits), I managed to get him to sit still long enough to finish. All bullshitting aside, the boy's hair was pretty slick. Both ears remained fully in tact. Winning! I will never pay Great Clips again...
So let's fast forward to lastnight, first day of school eve. Like any phenomenal mother would, I performed daily wrist exercises to prepare for a good 1.374 hours of labor intensive manual pencil sharpening. I packed up all 872 of those pencils, 42 sticks of glue, and enough paper towels, Ziplock baggies and Expo markers to stock both of their teachers' homes until at least the end of 2012. I pre-packed lunches, labeled NOTH on every surface, backpack and forehead I could find, and lastly - I contemplated haircut number two.
Confident in my ability, I chose to forego a trip to Great Clips. Having discovered this raw talent of mine, I decided that this year, mom can take credit for his fresh new cut. So I positioned my fourth-grade subject just where I needed him, I snapped on the #4 guard and I went to work. Twenty minutes later, we were on the brink of perfection. The boy looked good, I felt good, and WHAM. He turned his head into my hand and we now have what he refers to as the "hole in his hair".
It was about three short weeks ago that I decided I'd make an amazing hair stylist. All I needed was a mannequin. Short on mannequins, I grabbed the next best thing - the Brain. At first he was all about it. My noble experimentee hopped up on the stool with his chest confidently pressed outward and a big smile on his face. It was around the time that I snapped the #4 guard onto the clippers that I noticed his smile fade away. He had a worried look on his face and he began to ask in-depth fact finding questions that very much matched his facial expression.
Have you done this before?
How close are you gonna get to my ears?
Do ears bleed when they get cut?
If you cut my ear off on accident, does that mean I'm deaf?
If I get deaf, I won't hear you tell me to get off the XBox or to go to bed. Can you just practice on Cara?
After some careful negotiations (30 extra minutes of video games, less work, more pay, and better benefits), I managed to get him to sit still long enough to finish. All bullshitting aside, the boy's hair was pretty slick. Both ears remained fully in tact. Winning! I will never pay Great Clips again...
So let's fast forward to lastnight, first day of school eve. Like any phenomenal mother would, I performed daily wrist exercises to prepare for a good 1.374 hours of labor intensive manual pencil sharpening. I packed up all 872 of those pencils, 42 sticks of glue, and enough paper towels, Ziplock baggies and Expo markers to stock both of their teachers' homes until at least the end of 2012. I pre-packed lunches, labeled NOTH on every surface, backpack and forehead I could find, and lastly - I contemplated haircut number two.
Confident in my ability, I chose to forego a trip to Great Clips. Having discovered this raw talent of mine, I decided that this year, mom can take credit for his fresh new cut. So I positioned my fourth-grade subject just where I needed him, I snapped on the #4 guard and I went to work. Twenty minutes later, we were on the brink of perfection. The boy looked good, I felt good, and WHAM. He turned his head into my hand and we now have what he refers to as the "hole in his hair".
In my defense, Michael Phelps doesn't speed swim in a jacuzzi with jets. I'm at a serious disadvantage, folks. We'll be stopping by Great Clips later this evening. Oopsies!
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteLove your blog, Becky! Can't wait for more hilarious posts!
ReplyDelete