The Haircut

Cian, one week old

As a woman with shoulder length hair I am quite low maintenance when it comes to any hair-related grooming. I probably get my hair cut every six months in a good year. I think my last haircut was April and it is just while I write this that I am considering booking an appointment. It's not even the price that is a deterrent for me. That's only because I found a salon which is quite reasonable, and doesn't charge you a week's salary for a trim. For me, it is just not at the top the priority list of things to do at the weekend.

For men however, hair grooming is a whole different ball game. For the first six years of our relationship, I was never conscious of the frequency of Jack's haircuts. I think he must have been barbering in secret. Now I realise that it's not just Jack, it's all men. My male colleagues are just as bad and my Dad is probably the worst topping the charts with at least three visits a quarter. So now having a son, who was born with a good head of hair, I find myself making a six weekly trip to the hairdressers. I feel it important to note that I do most of the hairdresser trips because Jack works alternate Saturdays and hairdressers are not open Sundays here. 

So you're probably thinking, 'Zara, what's the big deal?' Oh, but I'm getting to that. In Cian's younger years it would be pretty easy. I would make an appointment, we would walk in, Cian would sit down, I would ask for his hair to be shorter, and Cian would sit relatively still whilst the lady did the deed. Easy! There was nothing technical about it and everybody knew what they were doing. We had a good year of it being that way. That was until a couple of months ago. I booked Cian in for his monthly haircut with someone different. She was lovely and chatty - just what I look for in a hairdresser. She asked if she could use the clippers on Cian and once I had confirmed this wouldn't hurt (How would I know? I've never had clippers used on me), I signalled to go ahead!

The haircut I was aiming for..

The haircut was great. It was a little shorter than normal but I thought it was nice and fit for a two-year old boy. With Cian feeling proud as punch with his new do, I asked the lady what I should 'order' next time we come in and I swear, this is what she said. "A number two on the sides and a number three on the top". Sounded good to me. I took a mental note of those instructions. A month later, we were back at the same salon but this time Cian was booked in with someone new. That didn't bother me because I had my instructions - number two on the sides and a number three on top. I told her what Cian wanted and she began. I sat back and relaxed. I feel like you should be able to trust your hairdresser to enact your request. Especially when it was only a few weeks earlier that I was given those instructions.

I think it was about three seconds into my baby's hair being shaved off that I started to panic. With every second that passed, I could see more and more of his scalp. A scalp I had never really ever seen before. I became paralysed. Had I repeated the instructions wrong? Is a number one the longest or the shortest setting? I felt sick and it was too late to intervene. My only thought was 'Jack is going to kill me'. There was a moment where she changed the clipper head and I froze because I thought what else could she possibly do? Was she was going to carve the Nike logo into the side of my boy's head? That genuinely crossed my mind. Thankfully, no Nike ticks were involved. Instead she just kept cutting the hair even shorter! 

The Haircut, September 2018: Profile View

The Haircut, September 2018: Portrait View

I was in shock. I finally opened my eyes, and that's when I realised it was over. After cleaning the hair out of Cian's mouth (he always seems to end up with a mouth full of hair), we thanked the lady and paid. It was by no means her fault. I had obviously been given bogus instructions? Or had I? I didn't have a clue who was at fault at this point so I just got my skinheaded child into the car, and started working on a plausible explanation of what to tell Jack.

A few hours post incident, I was starting to get used to Cian's new look and dare I say it, I liked it. It was soft and smooth to touch, and from an economical standpoint it was a fantastic idea. Shorter haircuts meant it would take longer to grow back. And that of course meant less trips to the hairdresser! I had prepared a pretty great defence case for my act of negligence.

Two months on and his hair is still short and there is no sign of it needing cut any time soon. This is now the best hair cut ever!