“I didn’t know you were a beautician,” I said, surprised to see her wielding her scissors like a pro. “I’m not, but I’ve learned a few things over the years.” She then demonstrated how to give a haircut. “When y’all get married,” she said, “you can cut David’s hair.”
Whaaaaaat?
In my family, haircuts were off-limits to amateurs. Only someone with a certificate and a special chair touched our heads. And if they didn’t have a jar of assorted combs soaking in green liquid on their counter top, uh uh, ain’t no way they were lifting a pair of scissors to our locks.
That’s why I knew David’s mother was joking—until our bridal shower.
After opening a dozen boxes containing cookware, Corning Wear, and underwear (yeah, someone got confused and thought it was a lingerie shower), I peeled the paper off a small, flat package. The box inside said, Professional Hair Cutting Set.
“Now you won’t have to borrow my tools,” my almost-mother-in-law said with a smile.
Oh my, I thought. She honestly thinks I’m going to give David a haircut.
I carried the gifts home and tucked the hair cutting kit in the bottom of a box. There it lay, forgotten, until about a month after our wedding.
“Lori,” my new husband said, “my hair’s getting a little shaggy. Would you give me a haircut?”
“Are you serious?” I practically screeched. “The only hair I’ve ever cut was my Barbie’s, and that didn’t turn out so well. I can’t cut your hair. People go to school for years to learn how. What if I make a mistake? There’s no gluing it back on, you know. Remember that school picture from kindergarten when your sister took a pair of scissors to your bangs? Do you really want to go back there?”
But there was no convincing him. His mom always cut his hair, and when I signed the marriage certificate, she passed the mantle to me. The thought of going to a stranger for a haircut was foreign and distasteful.
“Think about how much money we’ll save,” he reasoned. “I trust you. You can do this.”
And so I did.
Keep in mind that these were the days before YouTube. My best hope was to check out a book from the library, study the instructions, and give it my best shot.
Some haircuts came out fairly decent. Others not so much.
To read the rest of this post, please visit my new blog, Refresh. Here’s the link: https://lorihatcher.com/?p=3223↗
Far from being a "mama's boy", I have to admit my greatest examples of living a grace-filled, kindness-focused life came from watching my adopted mom interact with the world around her. She taught me the importance of greeting the world with a smile and a kind word. I wish I had learned that lesson better some days. As for Pastor David's haircut, I offer two words; "crew cut." :-) God's blessings ma'am.
ReplyDeleteAhh, J.D. What a marvelous testimony your mama lived in front of you. May we be similarly good and godly parents as she was. Thanks for dropping by today!
DeleteWhen I was a young girl, my middle sister Carol, decided to trim my bangs. What a mess! hahaha! We still laugh about her "haircut" abilities and how funny my bangs looked.
ReplyDeleteOh yes, I suspect we all have a school picture or two that demonstrates our sibling's ability (or lack thereof) to cut hair. Girls are especially vulnerable. Thanks for the smile, Melissa.
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