Hairlairious or Hairifying?

Caroline had told me that she was taking all the kids to have hair cuts today and so I was looking forward to seeing them all neat and tidy again when I arrived home from work. All of them except Michael that is because if the last couple of efforts were anything to go by, he was only going to lose an inch or so.

Before I left work, Caroline called to check when I’d been home and dropped into conversation the fact that Michael wasn’t happy with his and so not to be too harsh on him or make any sort of comment that was likely to offend him.

It brought back the time that I had a hair cut that I loved, but that everyone around me thought was something along the lines of ridiculous. My brother’s not so politically correct comment was “that’s fucked,” whilst Dad, being the understanding and creative individual that he is, took one look and said, “wear a hat.”

Well, as if I was going to cave in the face of such opposition! And being conscious of that, I haven’t pushed Michael too hard and wasn’t going to on this occasion either. I was kind of hoping that peer pressure might win him over, but clearly he doesn’t exactly worry about the opinion of his peers! That could be a good thing.

Anyway, I came home from work and was greeted by an ecstatic Thomas, complete with very short hair. Sam was equally happy with his short hair, but there was no sign of Michael or Emily. Turns out that Emily was enjoying some ‘personal time’ as a result of her reaction to the take away Chinese that had been brought home for dinner.

As for Michael, well I was of course most interested to see what had happened to his head. That was rather difficult though because I was soon informed that he had gone into hiding and hadn’t been sighted in the 2 hours since he’d come home from the hair dresser.

Apparently he’d sat and endured the massacre and as soon as it was finished, stormed from the chair directly to the car without even a comment. Needless to say that I was expecting something pretty bad, but decided that I’d have dinner before I bothered facing him. Eventually he was tracked down, but before I could see him, he slipped into his room and stood holding it, refusing entry. I tried to peek through the crack in the door, but that wasn’t going to do much. Michael was in no mind to let me in, going so far as to say that I was the one that he especially didn’t want to see it. I decided to give him time, but Caroline, having dealt with the 2 hour absence decided it was time to confront him. I left her to it.

I finally managed to sneak in to our room when he was talking to Caroline, still far from loving life. I only saw the back at first. It was shorter, maybe an inch above his neck line, may be a little messy. I lay down on the bed, not making any sudden moves or even commenting, waiting to be invited. When he finally did decide that I could have a look and let me see, it wasn’t really that bad at all.

Except for the fact that he hated it and that for a delicate young teenager’s soul that meant the world was ending.

Caroline, being the super-Mum that she is, proposed a solution: One of the Aussies that we’ve met here in Fort Mac happens to be a hair dresser. After a bit of a look on line to see if there was something that Michael might be able to live with after his hair had been ‘butchered’ and an emergency call was put into Mel.

A short time later, Michael was sitting on a chair in the living room, scissors being re-applied to his hair. A short time later again, he was done, there was a smile on his face and the world, whilst not perfect, had certainly tilted back toward a what a 13 year old might consider balanced.