At the ages of 10 and 12, my two boys already have this never-ending need to prove me wrong.
Briar, the oldest, decided that he needed his hair trimmed. It had started flipping up at the ends – and he didn’t like that. So, my mom made him an appointment for Friday afternoon.
When he got up in the chair at the beauty shop, I told the stylist that he just wanted it trimmed. To my delight, he said, “No I don’t, I want it short!” He then went on and told our stylist how he wanted his hair cut.
My husband had told Brad that he had to get his bangs trimmed, too. We couldn’t keep them out of his eyes, no matter what we tried. He groaned and complained, but agreed to have them cut as little as possible.
When Briar finished and Brad’s turn came, he got up in the chair and told the stylist not to cut off very much. She trimmed up his bangs and the ends of his hair. Brad took one look in the mirror and said, “Just cut it all off.” I wasn’t sure I heard him right – and the stylist was looking at me unsure of what to do since he had been so adamant about not cutting a lot of it. He wanted it cut like Briar’s. I told her to go ahead and do it.
They both love their new style – just not as much as I do.
I didn’t think they would want their hair short, but they proved me wrong. In this instance, I don’t mind at all.
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