As a parent, I’ve had my fair share of self-reflection moments. There are days when I glance in the mirror and think, “Not too shabby.” Then there are those other days, usually while scrubbing the bathroom or cleaning up after the kids, when I recoil in horror at what I see. Let’s be real—most days fall into the latter category.
But nothing quite jolts me into a panic over my suburban mom appearance like a botched haircut. Luckily, I have a stylist who works wonders on my hair every few months, but believe me, I’ve experienced my share of terrible haircuts. Who hasn’t? The notorious Haircut From Hell is a rite of passage for many children, and at some point, every parent faces the aftermath of an ambitious 4-year-old with scissors.
With two sons and no daughters, I thought I could avoid the drama of the Haircut From Hell. I was wrong. A few years back, I took my eldest son, Daniel, for his regular trim at Hair Cuttery. He prefers to keep his hair longer, and I’m not exactly eager to wrestle with this task more than twice a year.
He grumbles and protests, and I remind him that he can have his hair however he likes, but hygiene requires a trim now and then. After settling into the chair, we both recite the “just a trim” mantra to the stylist. Meanwhile, I took my younger son, Max, to another chair across the salon, keeping an eye on him as he got his own haircut. A few minutes later, the stylist leaned over to me and whispered, “I think he’s not happy.”
Of course he wasn’t! He never enjoys haircuts, but when I approached him, I was shocked to see tears streaming down his face. He was sobbing, clearly distraught about the situation.
As the stylist stepped away to take a call, he hissed, “Just a trim! We told her just a trim!” He was having a full-on emotional meltdown right there in the salon. I totally understood his frustration; she had taken off most of his cherished golden curls. I wanted to cry too.
He cried huge tears as the stylist continued her work, and he wailed the entire ride home. “I know it hurts,” I said. “But we’ve all been there, buddy.”
“No! No one has ever had a haircut this horrible! I want my old hair back!” he exclaimed.
“Actually, we’ve all experienced bad haircuts at some point. I certainly have,” I reassured him.
“No! Nothing this terrible. You’re lying, Mom.”
“Well, at least you didn’t lose a limb,” I offered, trying to provide some perspective, but it didn’t help much.
When we got home, he sprinted upstairs, pulled his hood over his head, and locked himself in his room. A friend arrived shortly after, but Daniel refused to come out.
“No! I don’t want him to see me! I’m never going to school again!”
“I think he needs some time,” I whispered to his friend through the door.
My husband entered to console Daniel with a few jokes about his own baldness, but it was the timeless wisdom that finally coaxed him out: “It’ll grow back.”
I wish I could say that was the last tearful episode over haircuts, but that would be a lie. About a year and a half later, my son who loved his long locks decided he wanted a shorter style.
“Are you positive? Are you really sure?” I asked repeatedly, worried he’d regret it again.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he insisted every time. Two days later, with his determination solidified, we returned to that very same Hair Cuttery where he had cried 18 months earlier. The stylist cut off about 6 to 8 inches, creating a pile of curls on the floor.
As I looked at the mass of hair, I felt an existential crisis hit me in the middle of the salon. Who was this young man growing up in front of me? I longed to preserve that little boy he had been, wishing I could freeze time.
But when I looked up, ready to shed a tear, I was met with a beaming smile.
“I love it!” he exclaimed. “I absolutely love it, Mom!”
If he’s happy, then I’m happy, I thought. He looked handsome as always.
As we navigate this new phase of tweendom (and soon the teen years—yikes!), I know I’ll need to guide him sometimes and follow his lead at others. So I smiled and said, “I’m so glad you like it. It looks incredible.”
Even if I was secretly thinking, “It’ll grow back.”
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Summary
The emotional rollercoaster of getting children’s haircuts is a familiar journey for many parents. This amusing tale recounts the heart-wrenching moments experienced by a mother as her sons navigate the trials of haircuts, from the dreaded Haircut From Hell to the bittersweet realization of growing up. Ultimately, it reminds us all that hair does grow back, even if the moments feel overwhelming.