My life's calling...

...is not beautician extraordinaire. I've been incredibly lucky that when it comes to haircuts for my boys, both big boy’s (Cody) and little boy’s (Gavin & Cash)...my very talented and generous mother-in-law cuts their hair. I figure 3 boy's x's say 10.00 (10.00 per child, per hair cut) x 8 (number of haircuts per year at a rate of 1 haircut every six weeks) = 240 annually. That adds up over the years. My mother-in-law is always ready to give a haircut, if she has the time...but we don't call in and make appointments like we would if she were doing this for a living. And much of time, when Cody decides he wants his hair cut...he wants it cut right then! Which leads me to my story...

Cody was in desperate need of a haircut (or so he thought) Saturday morning. His mother was unavailable, so he looks over at me, and said, "Why don't you cut my hair" (and I'm not really sure what punctuation to even put here, because while his question started with "why" he didn't ask, it was definitely more of a demand). I answered,” No, because we all know how I did in art class." And yet he somehow convinced me that my lack of talent in the art department didn't mean I couldn't cut his hair...Oh, boy was he wrong.

I actually did pretty well, until the very end, when I was evening up his sides...that's when the major faux pas occurred. He now looks like Hitler on his left side. To make matters worse, after I committed this awful mistake, and he told me to just do the same on the other side, I was laughing so hard, that the right side looks even worse..if in fact that is EVEN possible! I'm so glad he had such a great sense of humor about the whole situation. At any rate I told him he must wear a hat everywhere until his hair grows out, and was excused from church as well, since that's pretty much the only place he goes without his hat on. And I'm pretty sure, I'll never be asked to cut his hair again.