So not a barber

Will hates going to the barber. It isn't really anything against the barber and it isn't a money thing. It's more of a last minute thing, i.e. at midnight he suddenly realizes he needs his haircut for the next day but nothing is open...you know, typical guy procrastination. So, he recently bought a razor and gives himself a buzz cut every 6 weeks or so. One time, he was rushed for time and shaved most of it off quickly. I didn't realize he had made a botch of things till we were in the car and he turned his head and well....there were 2 large pieces of hair sticking out...wish I had a picture. I laughed the whole way into town. He then headed straight to the barber for a re-do. Too funny! And so much for it being a time saver!

He is now in California on business. The night before he left he decided to do his hair again and this time asked me to inspect. It didn't look good so he asked me to fix it. I got very nervous. See, I'm not good with scissors and I most certainly am not good at cutting in straight line. In high school, when Dad wouldn't give me money for a haircut, I attempted by own and lets just say, it was so bad that when I walked into my dad's study, he changed his mind and pulled a few bills out of his wallet for a haircut.

So, lets just say that I made Will's hair look worse...but not on purpose, I swear. He eventually fixed it and it looked perfect when he left for the airport the next morning. I told him I wasn't a barber, but he just wouldn't listen. I don't think he'll ask me again.