No Need to Wash...Really.

Hub is the only one who really likes getting his haircut at our house.

J hates it because he's 14 and thinks long shaggy hair is cool. Secretly we call him 'Beebs'.  (Ok, not so secretly, we pretty much call him that to his face.  With a lot of love.  Lots.) I know I can't control the length of his hair forever and it's a battle I'm eventually going to lose.

However...

Until he's a sophomore, he'll be sporting short hair and looking mighty handsome if I do say so myself.

Lu likes doing hair stuff, but only when it doesn't hurt.  And on every day of the week that doesn't end with 'day'.  She has the prettiest hair too. I relish the moments when she becomes my dolly and let's me do it.

Sigh.

T is really who this story is about.

T doesn't like to get his hair cut for 2 reasons. One, J doesn't like to get his hair cut and therefore T doesn't either. Two, he hates sitting still. Truly.

One Saturday evening I cut Hub and J's hair and for whatever reason T slipped out of the rotation and into the shower and into bed.

He thought he was soooo smart.

Until the next morning when I got him out of bed and my clippers out of the case.

I clipped, combed and pleaded with his cow-licks to behave and whipped them into shape.

Then I told him, much to his dismay, to take another shower. The conversation went something like this...

'Whaaat?!'

'Yes, shower. Again.'

'But, I just took'

'Shower again.'

'A shower last'

'Doesn't matter, take another one.'

'NIGHT!'

'Take another one. And make sure you scrub. And get all the hair off.'

'But...'

'Now. Shower.'

It's amazing to me that I have to remind him to scrub. I mean seriously, but I do.

He grumbled all the way down the hall and got in.

Later when we were in church, he laid his head on my lap. On my black skirt.

I didn't think much of it until my leg started going to sleep, which happens regularly because the boy can't sit vertical in church.

When he sat up I realized I had a lap full of hair. Not just a little. Full. Hair.

I rubbed my hand up the back of his #2 attachment clipped head and little hairs flew everywhere.

Soo. Per. Fun.

I looked at Hub, who then looked at T, who then looked at me, who then tried to burn a hole in him with my eyes. He knew he was busted.

I got up and took T by the hand, nicely. I have to say nicely, because I had to focus on that word. As we headed to the car, I secretly plotted all the mean and nasty things I could do to him for revenge.

I'm joking, but only a little.

Once we got to the car I yelled. Then I drove home threw him in the shower, scrubbed his head myself, twice.  Then I got him dressed again.  In the cleanest shirt I could find. That didn't have hair on it.

He said he was sorry.  He's really good at that.

As we stopped at the front door I took his face in my hands and kissed him on the forehead.  Told him I loved him and that someday we'd laugh about this experience.

Love that boy.