This morning, I hit a new money-saving low. On a complete whim, I asked my husband to cut my hair. With real scissors. As in chunks of hair hitting the floor. Matt agreed, though he was far more hesitant than I. Honestly, I have a pretty easy (read: boring) hair style. I have even grown out my layers, so it’s just (or it seemed to me to just be) a a matter of a few even snips around my head, and that’s that. Plus, I knew I could always rock a ponytail for a few days until I could get into a salon for any necessary damage control. Finally, Matt agreed to my plan.
The first slight hiccup was a faulty instrument. Matt chose to use the cheapo scissors that came with the hair clipper set we bought him on clearance at TJ Maxx years ago. (Note: We have used these twice in three years. Clearly, I trust Matt more with my hair than he trusts me with his. Therein lies a huge problem.) Anyway, the clipper scissors- I already knew they didn’t work well and offered him Carson’s craft scissors instead. He chose the cheapo hair clipper scissors. Let’s just say they were hit or miss.. not how you would want to describe hair shears.
Then came the technique. I was full of unheeded advice for Matt. “Stop cutting my hair on an angle, Matt.” “You’re skipping entire sections of my hair!” “Are you sure you don’t want Carson’s scissors?” “That’s not how they do it at the salon.” “No, seriously, let me just do it.” “Stop cutting my hair on an angle!!”
Though this may sound like it was a horrendous experience, it was actually quite pleasant. I was in good spirits, Matt kept his cool, and we saved forty bucks.
Oh, and the hair? It’s not bad! Matt really and truly did a better-than-halfway decent job. Cutting my hair. Is it perfect? Nah. Do I care? Not really. There are so many better things to do with forty dollars. Like buying better scissors.
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All of a sudden, the everpresent camera is MIA. Intentional? PawPaw