One thing is definitely happening to everyone during this time of closures and stay-at-home measures: our hair continues to grow.
The men in our house have reached some pretty astonishing levels of scraggly. The curly do’s our two sons are sporting are embarrassing. To combat the sheep look-a-like contest we seem to be running around our supper table, I am happy to encourage hat wearing—even during meals.
Tonight, son number one’s special young lady volunteered to fix this part of the problem. She took the clippers first to my husband, and then to son number one. (Son number two claims he should now try to grow his hair out, and donate it. I’ve wished him well.)
This was yet another chance to be aware of all those wonderful services that we kind of take for granted. After all, if you want a haircut… you go get a haircut… normally.
It’s one more chance for us to recognize a burgeoning talent in a young adult, too. Not everyone can (or should) take a clippers into their hands. (Should I tell you all about how I once tried, and forgot to put on the guard? Son number two was effectively scalped–right down the middle with my first bold stroke. There was no going back at that point. Afterward, a friend pulled me aside and urged me to have him wear a hat, since his little head was pretty much bare. I’ve never touched the clippers again.)
Today’s silver lining: bringing a newfound appreciation for hair stylists to our collective attention yet again–and a round of gratitude to those willing to step up anyway!