The Dingo Sheared My Babies!!!

Ok so it was really Secretary, not a dingo, but holy shit.

The two younger kids still spend Thursday nights with Big Daddy. This past Friday, I was working at the computer when they were dropped off before school. I heard them come in, and when William came to the door of my office to say hello I spun my chair around...and was shocked to see a little version of Ed Norton in American History X.

Apparently, whilst in the company of Big Daddy and Secretary, Henry mentioned that he needed a trim. A TRIM. Meaning he needed a couple of inches taken off of his cute, skateboarder/Justin Bieber 'do.

According to the boys, Secretary scoffed and said something about "We're not paying for haircuts!". And before they knew what was happening, they were shorn.

Now, I know that I sometimes overreact to things that are done by Big Daddy and Secretary. I know that I need to chill, to get over it, to deal with it. And for the record, the kids have received haircuts while with Big Daddy before...but never by someone who most definitely has never been trained in the super difficult art of clipping hair.

Also for the record: I think "summer cuts" are fine. I even think a good old fashioned buzz cut is ok in some cases. But this was beyond a buzz cut...this was skinhead grade, prison-issued awfulness.

You can see their white scalps, big patches of it here and there. There are random, long strings of missed hair all over. There is no fade, no "leave a little on the top" with these haircuts. My boys look like junior white supremacists. All they're missing are a few swastika tattoos and some steel-toed army boots.

I tried to hide my horror, but they noticed that I was a little less than pleased. For that, I feel terrible. I told them that they looked GREAT, and that they both have lovely shaped heads and that their beautiful blue eyes really jump out now. I didn't tell them that if I didn't know any better I would think that we had been blessed by the lice fairy again.

So we cleaned their ears, dried Henry's tears and started our day. I have been trying really hard to take the high road when dealing with Big Daddy. Far too many times I have fired off an email filled with bitchy anger and spot on, but inappropriate observations. So I didn't say, text or email anything. But as the reactions to the haircuts came in, I started to rethink this one.

William came home and announced that he had two new nicknames: Licey and Baldy. Henry said that his friends just asked "Dude, what happened??". Later that night, William had a baseball game and I got some feedback from the other moms and dads. They were supportive, but 99% of those polled agreed that these were horrible haircuts. Most of them said that if they were me, they would mention it. One of them even said that she was going to say something to Big Daddy.

Whatever...by this time I had decided that what's done is done, and for me to say anything would be just stirring the big boiling pot.

Hair grows back.