“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” 1 Peter 3:3-4
You know the coronavirus situation is getting critical when your husband asks you for a haircut.
“I trust you,” Bjorn said.
I, of course, took this matter very seriously. I diligently watched 2 ½ videos on how to cut hair on YouTube — ½ because one video was super boring and all about how to cut hair with scissors. I would be using clippers and didn’t think I would need to know that information.
Or so I thought.
Anyhooo—it seemed straightforward enough: You start with a “4” clipper guard and work your way down to a “1” at the lowest level of hair. Then cut the remaining longer hair on top, section by section, using scissors. The hardest part seemed to be mastering a “rocking” motion one made with the clippers (“out not in!”) to blend the hair levels.
I had the perfect assistant in Journie, who not only laid out the clipper guards and scissors neatly and handed them to me, but also helped sweep up the hair after (!)
I felt confident going in; I was rockin’ that rocking motion, and things were looking good, if I do say so myself. The hardest part was the hair tornado I found myself in: I was cutting Bjorn’s hair on our balcony and the wind kept blowing his cuttings all over the place. (I decided not to worry about littering and “Sarah, Plain and Tall” it by leaving it for the birds.)
I finished levels “4” and “3.” Next should have come “2,” but it was missing from the set. The next closest size was a “1 ½.”
“Eh, close enough,” I thought.
But when I used the 1 ½ guard, it had the curious effect of making the upper layers look fluffier, stand out more, like a shelf. He looked like he was wearing a mushroom hat.
I’ll fix it with the scissors, I thought.
I started snipping away, and quickly noticed that the hair seemed to be standing even more upright, looking even more fluffy. I started to get that tingly, hollow-gut feeling that comes when every move you make seems to make things worse.
By the time I finished trimming Bjorn’s hair, not only did he look like Toad from SuperMario, but the cut was lopsided. It looked truly awful.
So I started to laugh — HYSTERICALLY.
Tears were pouring from my eyes and I was gulping for air, I was scream-laughing so hard. These actions, of course, alarmed Bjorn a bit and he jumped up to look at his hair.
It was so bad he had to laugh, too.
“We can always get a baseball hat,” he said kindly.
“Wait, wait, I think I can fix it,” I said. Why he believed me, I don’t know, but I guess at that point he also had no choice. I took a “3” clipper guard and ran it up, past the previous “4” level. It wasn’t perfect, but it got rid of the mushroom effect.
Moral of the story, kids: Never do anything by halves. 🙂