A bad haircut

Now that Erik's hair has grown back, I don't feel quite as ashamed writing this post.

On Valentine's Day weekend, Erik was scheduled to attend an overnight church youth conference (as a leader, in case you were wondering...) in Columbus, GA. He had mentioned early in the week that he needed a haircut before he left. For those who don't know, I have cut Erik's hair since we got married. It made me really nervous at first, but I've gotten used to it. Erik's also been extremely patient with me as I've learned. And for the record, I've always done a fairly decent job.....until this particular weekend.

Less than an hour before he was supposed to meet the young men at the church building, Erik reminded me that he needed a haircut. I told him we didn't have time. He said we had plenty of time. So....I quickly got everything set up in the bathroom while he put some last-minute things together for his trip. As I was waiting for him, I realized that I hadn't oiled the clippers. (Erik got a new hair cutting kit for Christmas, and the clippers require oiling before each use. I still haven't gotten used to that.) I quickly pulled off the attachment and oiled the blade. Then Erik came in and sat down. I immediately flipped the "on" switch and got right down to business.

Even after I took the first swipe, I didn't realize what I'd done.

I didn't even realize it when Erik, feeling cold metal against his scalp, yelped, "L'Anita!"

I didn't even realize it when I glanced down at the naked blade I was holding. "Oh, whoops!" I said. "I forgot to put the attachment back on." I grabbed it off the sink and put it on the clippers.

Erik started laughing--you know, the kind of laugh you make when you can't believe something's actually happening....."L'Anita!" he said, turning to face the mirror, "Do you know what you just did?" I turned and looked in the mirror too.

That's when I realized what I'd done.

Fortunately for me, my husband is a saint. Not only did he not get upset, he started comforting me when I burst into tears at the sight of the bald streak I'd created!

After a few minutes of rubbing my back and telling me everything was going to be ok, my practical husband suggested that we figure out what to do with the rest of his hair. He examined the situation from all angles in the mirror and said there was only one thing to do. "We'll have to do the same thing all around," he said.

I choked on a sob and managed to compose myself instantly. "No!"

Several minutes later, we'd reached a compromise: we would create an identical bald stripe on the other side of his head, then go around with the shortest attachment, and then attempt to "blend" the two lengths (and there was quite a difference between them!). The thought of purposely shaving a stripe on the other side of his head just didn't feel right to me, but, as Erik pointed out, he would "look like a freak" with only one sideburn. I guess he had a point.

So that's what we did. And here's what it looked like when we were done.

The pictures just don't do it justice. It looked ten times worse in person. But then again, I didn't take any right away, when it was just the one awful-looking bald streak. Of course I wasn't about to whip out the camera at such a moment. What kind of insensitive, tacky wife would do that? I had the decency to wait till after we'd "fixed" him before I asked permission to take pictures. Besides, I was too busy freaking out at first to think about documenting "The Worst Haircut Ever."

And just to give you a better idea, here's what Erik normally looks like:
Ok, minus the block in his mouth...

Erik, the Saint, de-sideburned--right before he put a hat on for the weekend

Right before he walked out the door, Erik wrapped his arms around me, told me I was wonderful, and said he loved me. Then he thanked me for cutting his hair (?) and "not freaking out on him." (??) Then he kissed me and left the house smiling.

Sometimes I don't think I deserve that guy....

The Happy Ending: Erik bumped into several other church friends at the youth conference that night. When he explained why he was wearing a hat, one of them said, "Don't worry, Erik! There's only one difference between a good hair cut and a bad hair cut."

"And what is that?"

"Two weeks."

Bless you, Trish. That's the kind of perspective we need around here.