The Haircut

I had cut my son's hair all his life and now he was married.

My hair cutting career began when I was about 9 or 10 years old.  I persuaded mother to let me cut my young brother's hair when he was a pre-schooler. I don't remember how it looked but I continued cutting hair until I was able to do a fair job.

Soon after my son's marriage he and Molly came to our home and he asked me to cut his hair, but I was ill and unable to do it then. Molly said to him, "Let me cut your hair. Frank. I want to learn to cut hair."

Frank was a little hesitant, but I said, "Let her try, Frank. I can't cut it now."

So he consented and I told them where the barber equipment was and they went outside to do the job. While they were gone I thought, I must tell her that was a pretty good try no matter how it looked.

Soon they returned and I started to say my rehearsed words, but just then my son looked into the mirror and cried "Eek!" in such a horrified way that I laughed. How I hated myself for laughing! Not at her or the haircut but at his reaction. It was funny. He looked like she had put a bowl over his head and cut around it.

I don't know if that ended Molly's career as a barber for they later had three sons but Frank always made sure I was well before he requested another haircut