The cut after the cut. Jake turned half of Naomi's head into a mullet. The other half was fine. A friend suggested I take my only daughter to "Famous Hair." And so I did as I was told. This is what happened. I guess that is what you get for taking your child into a place called, "Famous Hair." Lesson learned.
I will share with you three of my favorite comments I have received since this traumatic experience,
1. My friend and her girls hoped into our car to head to the Science Center. She glanced back. And then she glanced back again. In all seriousness she asked, "oh, what happened to her hair?" I told her. She told me that Jake actually did a better job. Apparently I should have left Jake's cut.
2. I took the kids to the hospital on Saturday to see their dad. One of the nurses came up to us asked about "the hair. " I told her I took her to a "salon" (I didn't tell her it was called "Famous Hair," I was too embarrassed. Her response, "you mean someone with a license cut that?"
3. I was walking around at my favorite new thrift shop yesterday looking through the racks of moderately used clothing. A lady turned onto our row and loudly asked, "oh, what...is that pixie cut back in again?"
I told her what happened and she kept pressing me. "Well, did your son get in trouble?" I was caught off guard. "Uh, yeah." "Well, don't worry about it honey. It will eventually grow back. The good news is, is that she is still young."
Is it seriously that bad?
I will never forget when our family was in New orleans when we were younger and my little brother, Joey, had a bull-cut. We were walking late at night and a guy walked past us and said, "nice helmet, kid."
Every time I see my baby girl, I always hear that same phrase in my mind.
"Nice helmet, kid."