Babci’s hair has been a constant source of discontent ever since she moved to my town 7 years ago. No matter where I take her, she finds fault in the hair salons I take her. The last time she was due for a haircut, she decided that hair dressers didn’t know how to cut her hair and only a barber to do the job that would satisfy her. I suspect it was because she just didn’t think it was worth paying $26 for a haircut and she knew a barber would be a lot cheaper. So, one Saturday morning, we went from barber shop to barber shop looking for a barber crazy enough to cut babci’s hair. After barber shop #3, we finally found someone willing to give it a try. Luckily, she reserved her commentary until we were back in the car.
As we were driving home, her first question was “how much did it cost?” After answering, she immediately shared all her sentiments about what a terrible hair cut it was and that it wasn’t worth the money, blah, blah, blah. I roll my eyes and try not to let her complaining get to me. This is exactly what happens after every single time we go to a salon. The crux of the issue is that she just doesn’t like paying for hair cuts, period. No matter how cheap it is, or how good a job they do, she just never thinks it’s worth it and leaves disappointed. Then about 6 weeks later at the most inopportune times, she randomly shoves scissors in my hands and begs me to cut her hair. Most of the time I refuse, but last weekend, she finally wore me down. I only had small jobs at her house that weekend and I agreed to cut her hair after I was done with my chores.
Grossly Inadequate Hair Cutting Tools
We walk into the bathroom and she has one of those giant pair of black handle metal scissors (you know the ones that your schoolteacher had in grammar school), a rusty pair of blending shears and an electric trimmer labeled “PET GROOMER” on it. I didn’t actually notice that the trimmer was for pets until my mom proudly pointed it out followed by the deal she got on them at a tag sale this summer. I picked up the scissors and tried to cut her hair. They didn’t cut her hair at all. It was probably the first pair of scissors she saw and she grabbed them. I complained and she directed me to a sharper pair she reserved for sewing. After about 20 minutes, I did manage to cut her hair to her liking, dog clippers and all and she was very happy. The blending shears and dog clippers actually worked better than expected and all was well in the world again. She said it was the best haircut she has gotten in years. I suspect it’s just because it was free and she finally was able to make use of the dog clippers that she picked up a few months before.
So, I guess I will have to add old lady barber to my list of growing talents. I would have been happy to delegate those duties to a trained professional but it does seem to make Babci happy. When it comes to frugal living, are haircuts one of those things you skimp on? By the way, in my case, I was scarred for life by Babci’s horrendous bowl haircuts she used to inflict on me. I overcompensate these days by paying a small fortune on my hair on a regular basis. I love my hairdresser Becky. To this day, I recoil in horror anytime babci comes near me with a pair of scissors offering her services. Twelve years of looking like a boy was enough to last a lifetime.
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