A hair-raising incident...or...not...(Sorry!)

So, to wrap up our February antics--wait, what's that you say? It's March? Holy time-slip, Batman, how the HECK did that happen? I mean, I get that it's a short month and all, but Jeez Louise, that went by fast. Okay, then, to kick off the 3rd month of 2018, how about we start with an amusing Derek anecdote, hmm?

Let me just lead off with: If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: I'm grateful in many ways to be parenting boys. Meaning absolutely no disrespect to girls--seeing as how I am one, after all--or their mothers, but there are just some things that seem...easier...and less complicated...with guys. Take, oh...haircuts, for example. Here's how they typically transpire for Team WestEnders: about every 8 weeks or so, Derek will say, "Man, my hair is getting on my nerves! Can we go to Great Clips soon?" Then we usually do the online check-in thing, and swing by after church, since the salon that's most convenient is our the way home. Approximately 15 minutes later, the teenagers are freshly shorn, and bada bing, bada boom, we're good to go for another couple of months.

Now, when the kids were younger, I'd speak with whomever was going to be grooming them, to explain how they'd like it cut. But with the wonders of modern technology these days, the salon can save the details of customers' preferences in the computer, so whichever stylist you happen to get can just pull it up and follow the exact same instructions at every visit, if that's what you want. And this has always worked out wonderfully...until our most recent encounter, that is. Both sons went back and sat down at the same time, but Derek emerged much sooner than I anticipated...wearing a shell-shocked expression...and sporting an unexpected buzz cut.

"Um...is that what you wanted?" I whispered, so only he could hear me. He shook his head vehemently, running a hand over his prickly 'do, looking quite agitated. Right behind him, the lady who'd administered this...surprise...perhaps seeing our less-than-enthusiastic reactions...hustled over and claimed that "He thought he wanted the #4 all over!" But I'm here to tell you that can't be true, due to the aforementioned electronic record of what he always gets, which I can assure you does NOT involve clippers being used all over his head.

Clearly there was a serious communication breakdown, but as they say, "What's done is done" (no matter how...unfortunate). And also, speaking as a female who has definitely lived through this scenario multiple times during her life (Okay, not that I ever ended up looking like Sigourney Weaver in Aliens, or anything, but you get my drift...)...and who's inherently much more sensitive to the potential trauma it might entail, I could offer the following comfort: "Don't worry--it'll grow back quickly!" Furthermore, the lesson to be learned from this--the hard way--is that, no matter how many times you've patronized a certain establishment, even knowing that they should have proof of what you've asked for in the past, ALWAYS confirm the details with the stylist BEFORE they pick up the tools and start snipping...or...mowing...away.

Derek--being the generally undramatic dude that he is--didn't suffer any kind of emotional meltdown over his bad hair experience...but he did emphatically declare that he would be wearing a baseball cap...at all times...until it gets long enough for him to feel comfortable uncovering it to display to the world at large...or, you know, everyone at his High School. Speaking as his mother, I can objectively report that it's not by any means horrible...it just doesn't...look like the Derek we know and love.

His friends, naturally, weighed in with various opinions, from the helpful and supportive, to the...not so much. Let's see, according to Derek's report...the baseball player shrugged and commented, "Yeah, I've been there." (Since the team has a tradition of shaving their heads each year...I believe before the playoffs? For...solidarity...and good luck? Or some such nonsense...) The one I think of as the...gentlest musketeer in the group...lent his sympathy in a predictably kind fashion. The...um..."class clown" of the bunch--who went through an extended "hat phase" himself, and isn't used to seeing Derek in one, noticed the headgear immediately and wanted to know what was up. And the last amigo? Well, Derek ruefully said that he "cracked up" and thought it was utterly hilarious. (Pffttt....BOYS! Amiright?)

Along the way, Derek has to endure--and deflect--the inevitable entreaties to remove his camouflage cap. Such as last week when another friend, who happens to be a girl, made a deal with him. It seems that she had to wear her glasses in school that day, rather than her contacts, so in Derek's words, she told him that, "If I have to look like a librarian, you can look like an army recruit."

So yeah, Derek is undoubtedly receiving a valuable education in...surviving a Bad Hair...Month? I'm sure in some way it's character building...or whatever. All I can say is, I'm extremely grateful at the timing of this particular snafu....long after Senior portraits, and still waaaay before Graduation photo ops! Eh, and I suppose I'll save a bunch of money by not having to return to the haircut emporium for a while, right? (Whew! While not technically a Win, we'll go ahead and call that a Silver Lining...and send hair-growing vibes...ha!)