To Distraction

Abraham's hair was getting shaggy. Of course, it was cute the way his forelock hung down over his eyes. Pretty much anything is cute on a baby; hair sticking out every which way being no exception. But I just kept thinking that, if I were him, I'd be annoyed to have hair tickling my ears, my neck, my forehead.... Not to mention that less hair means less water being dumped over his head to rinse it, which, from his point of view would have to be a good thing, right? So I decided it was time for Abe's first haircut with the clippers. I've trimmed him up with scissors from time to time, but this would be the first time I cut the whole shebang.

And it went well. It tickled; he put is arms up and giggled. I managed to dodge little flailing arms and buzz buzz buzz that hair off. He hung over the side of his high chair to watch the pile grow. "Hey, she's stealing my hair! There it is!" This made cutting the back of his head easy. And when I was all done, viola, cute as ever.

Then I decided Charlie needed a haircut. But I hadn't figured all the elements of the equasion. Element one: Charlie has much more, much thicker hair than Abraham. Element two: I had forgotten to oil the clippers. Element three: I've never given a haircut with an almost-one-year-old hanging on my pant leg before.

So I'm buzzing away at the back of Charlie's head, and nothing much seems to be happening. That's when I remembered the oil. So I popped the 5/8 inch comb off of the clippers, oiled them up, all the while having to repeat, "Charlie, stay there! This will only take a minute. Then you'll get a treat! CHARLIE, STAY THERE!!"

And on my leg is Abraham, going, "A-YA-YA-YA-YA-YA! MA-MA-MA! BAH-BAH-BAH!" at his most plaintive volume. So I picked him up an plunked him in his high chair to watch the shearing process. Then I went back to the clippers.

Buzz! There go the clippers, slick as butter through a swath of hair up the side of Charlie's head... without the 5/8 inch comb on them.... "OH CRAP! I'M STUPID!" Yes, I did actually yell that in front of my two children.

And Charlie jumped up out of the chair going, "What!? What's wrong!? Is thur bweed!?"

Erm... *Trots out extremely soothing voice* "No, honey. Mommy just cut too much hair off... It's okay. Sit back down."

 (You're just going to look like a Neo-Nazi midget. No big deal.)

Later, after we'd gone to church that night, and Charlie had explained to anyone and everyone, loudly, and with great detail that Mommy screwed his hair up on accident, we were driving home. Solemnly, he turned to me and said, "Mommy, you have to pay attention."

Yes, I guess so.