Friday, March 13, 2009


BJ had managed to "miss" the last several times Dad did assembly line clipper cuts for the boys. He kept telling big stories about how he was letting it grow, and it was going to be so cool. The longer it got, the worse it looked. Therefore the more I was put off. However, I believe in choosing one's battles and for me it will never be hair. It just isn't that important. If they want to rebel with their hair, fine by me. As long as there are no piercings or tattoos, we are good.

Eventually the glorious day came, he declared "I think I'd like to get my hair cut. I'm tired of it".
Yippee!! go ask your dad for a haircut.
"Let's do it this weekend when I have more time" was the reply.
What?! Didn't you hear the boy? He wants a haircut!
Well, the weekend came and went, and the one after that, and even the one after that. Now, I have no intention of hubby bashing here. He has been busy, so I took things into my own hands. I drove the boy straight to the nearest Great Clips and PAID to have his haircut.

Afterward, BJ says, " That was weird. Nobody else has ever cut my hair before. She messed with my collar and then she kept touching my head!"

Uh, duh.