About two months into quarantine Tommy couldn't handle his hair anymore. He was used to getting haircuts monthly, and several months without one had turned him into a grumpy, long-haired monster. So he told me to watch some YouTube tutorials while he went to Costco and bought a clipper set.
I watched several videos, I read a couple of articles and I (thought I) was ready. But here's the thing, the patience, and precision it takes to cut short hair is not a skill I possess for more than a couple minutes at a time. I started off strong. I trimmed. I went slow. Tommy was feeling the joy of a new haircut.
And then I got bored and flew too close to the sun. I went too high and too short and there was no fixing it. What started as me trimming Tommy's hair turned into a near buzzcut. All joy was lost. And the sorrow of letting his dumb ADHD wife cut his hair set in.
Here's a before and after so you can better imagine it:
Every subsequent haircut has followed a similar pattern. I start off strong, and when something goes wrong Tommy starts yelling at me (It's not real yelling. It's mostly like when a parent is disappointed in you for getting a bad grade on a test). He then will take the razor away from me and try to fix it while grumbling to himself about why I don't follow instructions. He'll question why he even lets me try. He'll try to convince me to try harder next time. And then he'll take a shower and get over it. It's a classic grief cycle once a month.
It is now December. And we're still doing homemade haircuts. Still following the same pattern of joy to sorrow. The sorrow to joy ratio in the homemade haircut is 80/20, but at least Tommy looks adorable in his homemade haircut cape.
What, you get a fun looking pink drink as a reward for sitting through these homemade haircuts?
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