Hair Yesterday, Gone Today

I guess the heat had finally did them in.

Yesterday Blake surrendered -- to what, I'm not sure -- and got his silky locks cut off. And Nick, in typical sibling fashion, tried to one-up him by opting for a buzz cut.

Now every time he's near, I have the urge to grab him and rub his head -- my new good-luck charm.

I tried to remember the last hair. For Nick it had been about two months. And I honestly couldn't remember the last time Blake's hair had seen scissors. Probably a good four months.

Ever since Blake adopted his long style some four years ago, taking him to get it trimmed has been unsavory, to say the least. One time when we were still in Elk Grove, he threw a little tantrum in the quickie haircut place. I had to drag him by the arm to the chair as he protested through tears.

He's been better in the past year or two, but I still have scars from the times he's cried, yelled, screamed, made threats, everything. Come to think of it, I don't think there's any other issue in the past few years that's sparked such opposition from my oldest. All it took, I suppose, was one bad trim.

"I'm not getting my hair cut by someone with two weeks of training," he'd counter, remembering the "bad bangs" experience.

But they both surprised me when they enthusiastically hopped in the car, Blake proclaiming he was going to "go short."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yep," he replied.

Nick looked to Blake, then out the window.

"I'm gonna get a buzz cut," he said.

"Hmmm," I replied.

I silently wondered if they'd follow through.

And ... they did.