My son has started 2013 with a haircut. This was a big deal for him, as ever since Justin Bieber made the long-fringe, casually-brushed-to-one-side look “totes awesome”, he’s been growing his hair steadily into his eyes.
A few months ago, worried about him getting a neck injury from the constant head flicking, I dragged him to the nearest hairdresser figuring it would be cheaper than a visit to the chiropractor.
It was one of those cheap as chips hair salons that seem to have popped up everywhere.
The young woman who served us seemed friendly enough and set to work.
“My nephew likes this style too, I do his hair like this all the time!” she assured us.
My son looked a bit apprehensive – after all this was the fringe he’d been growing for several months now – but he sat there meekly enough.
As parents do, I got distracted with a phone call and wandered off to chat freely.
When I turned around, his look of apprehension had become mild horror.
The fringe was still there, but the hair on the back had been shaved close, then spiked with glue-like gel that could double as brick mortar.
My mild-mannered offspring had gone from nice boy to trainee anarchist in minutes.
“Looks good, doesn’t it?” the hairdresser chirruped.
Remembering to breathe again, I lamely answered “Yes . . . great.”
At home he quietly asked his Dad if he could get the clippers out of the bathroom cupboard and give him an army-style number one all over.
And the fringe growing started from scratch.
I’m pleased to say that this week’s haircut went very well, a long fringe complemented by a tidy back and sides. No clippers necessary.
Emma Sutcliffe is a Little River-based freelance writer.
