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I Think I’ll Pay Next Time

We’ll subtitle today’s post “Soccer Chick Makes Another Attempt at Being a Hairdresser.”

Yesterday, Chicky welded scissors, treating Your’s Truly to a much-needed trim haircut.

She did warn me, however, that she probably didn’t cut it evenly, so she agreed to straighten my hair after church.  We figured that any mistakes would show up better…and boy did they!

First, the before picture, since some of you wanted to see how my hair looked after the cut…

My hair is a lot curlier than the picture shows.  I had just dried it to prepare it for the straightener.  Rooster’s response when he walked into the living room and saw my hair like this?

“Whoa!  That’s some big hair.”

Gee, thanks honey.  Way to make a mama feel good about herself.  I love you too, by the way.

But, I digress…

Chicky got to work, finishing a couple of layers before exclaiming loudly, “Oh my…”

Uh oh.

“Is it bad?” I asked.

She didn’t say anything, so I grabbed a small mirror…

You don’t need glasses to see a couple of problems near the bottom of my hair.

Most glaring was the huge chunk near the middle.  It was about an inch shorter than the rest.

Looking at the right side of my hair, you’ll notice that it’s longer than the left side.

Now, let me ask you a question.

How would you have reacted?

Would you have cried or yelled?

I am not your typical gal.

I laughed…

And laughed…

And laughed.

I saw Chicky’s face relax, and her eyes got a sparkle in them.

I instructed her to run get my camera.  I’m always thinking about my blog, you know.

She finished straightening my hair and then began the process of evening things out.

This was when I started holding my breath.

I tried to remind my self of my prenatal classes, when I learned to breath through the painful process.

Every whomp (that’s what thick hair sounds like when you cut it) made my heart sink.

While Chicky was cutting, one of her friends arrived at the house.  They had plans to go shopping, but Chicky had to finish what she was doing first.

The other friend, who I adore, took one look at my hair and said, “Oh my.”

Um, thanks, but that’s not exactly very reassuring.

And then I started laughing again.

The sight of two teenagers leaning over my head discussing how to “fix” it was hysterical.

The conversation went something like this:

“Chicky, what are you doing?” asked her friend.

“I’m fixing it,” Chicky responded (insert a DUH from me).

“No, you need to add texture,” her friend said.

“Does texture mean that you’re trying to hide the boo boos?” I asked.

“No,” she said, “I cut my dad’s hair all the time.  Trust me.  I know what I’m doing,” she said.

Um, okay, I think.

Back and forth they went until they were semi-happy.

The result?

Flash on (I couldnt decide which picture I liked better)

Flash on (I couldn't decide which picture I liked better)

Flash off

Flash off

Chicky did a terrific job with my hair, and she could charge big bucks by hiring herself out to straighten other people’s (just don’t cut their hair…they’ll sue).  She inherited my hair, so she has loads of experience with a Chi (that’s the brand of straightener).

In the end, I will probably go to a professionally-trained hairstylist next time.  In the meantime, I going to beg Chicky to straighten my hair for a while.  My hair is wayyyyyy big at this length, and I don’t really feel like reliving the 80’s.

A Hair-Raising Start to the Day

Weekdays in the AuburnChick home do not exactly flow smoothly…all of the time…despite the routine we’ve established.  Try to throw one extra thing in, and chaos reigns.

Know what I’m talking about?

I’m sure you have no idea as your lives probably run according to clockwork.

Yeah right…and I look like Heidi Klum.

Well, last night, Rooster decided he HAD to have his hair cut before going out of town for the weekend.  Of course, he tells me this at 9:15pm.  I make my kids go to bed at 9:00 on week nights, so there was no way he was getting it cut right then.

For most of Rooster’s 14+ years, I have been his hairdresser.  He has the Mr.’s hair…thick and course.  I use a Wahl cutter…the kind with various guides that allows you to cut hair at different lengths.  It’s super easy and fast…musts for active boys.

I reluctantly told Rooster that IF he got up by 5:30, I would cut it before school.

Eeeps…whatever was I thinking.  I am known to hit my snooze button six times (10 minutes apart).  This commitment would require me to actually get up when the alarm went off.


Rooster got everything set up and was ready for me.  As I turned on the gadget, I noticed that it sounded funny.  I have a good ear for these things and kept inspecting it.  The kids, in their all-knowing way, insisted that it was fine.

Ok then.  We proceeded.

I made three pass throughs, beginning with the center of his forehead and working around one side…when I started looking at it again.  It still didn’t seem right.

So I shook it a bit to see if I could get the blades to move properly.

And then I hit the side of it with my hand.

Wrong move.

The thing stopped working.

Uh oh.

I hit it a few more times.


I tried unplugging it and then plugging it back in, even hitting the little button that’s in the middle of the plug (you know…the thing that pops out and makes your outlets stop working).

Still nothing.

Soccer Chick had been straightening her hair, and as I glanced at her over Rooster’s head, I saw her start laughing…the reality of the situation putting a sparkle in her eye.

She knew we were in trouble.

Rooster was not happy.  He’s not a morning person, typically waking up in a bad mood that can take a couple of hours to dissipate.

I assured him that I would not send him to school with half of his hair cut…that the Mr. would run him to a stylist as soon as one opened.

Meanwhile, I hit that cutter one last time, and it started working!

We breathed a sigh of relief, and I resumed my work.

And then it stopped again, with half of his head to go.

I shooked it and slapped it…and got it working again.

This was how we spent a solid 30 minutes, praying we would make it through.

We did.  Afterward, we put the cutter away…permanently in the trash can.  I’ll be visiting my local Walmart or Target to get another one.

What a way to start the day.

Just another morning in the AuburnChick home.

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