Hair, hair everywhere, nor any strand to cut

Haircuts have always been a problem. 

The boys no longer roll around on the floor, whilst the hairdresser crouches beside them, nipping in and out with the scissors.  However I still have to condition them to the idea, introducing it as a forthcoming event a few weeks in advance.

Jamie fights against it most, which is a problem because he’s got haystack hair.  I’d like to say it looks like a bird’s nest, except birds’ nests are carefully constructed and actually very ordered.  Jamie’s is more like a bird’s nest that’s been ripped to shreds by a cat burglar, then squished together, then rolled in the mud.  The barber spends ten minutes unpicking it before beginning so that his scissors don’t get lost.

When I ask him why he doesn't want it chopped, he says he’s saving it up for a surprise or maybe a sponsored cut.  I’d sponsor him just to wash it.

Daniel needs it shorter to save his neck.  He’s got straight silky hair which would hang down to the end of his nose if he didn’t head flick it out of his eyes every few seconds.  He won’t use his fingers (wrong look) and despite hair products being as much for boys these days, they’re also despised.  Instead, it’s a neck wrenching flick as if he’s after a dislocation.  Trouble is, everywhere I look there’s boys his age doing the same.  Maybe I should stock up on a neck brace, before there’s a run on them?

So I thought I’d show willing and get mine cut.  Minus six inches and despite having gone from long to short, only my husband has noticed.  Only course left is to stop washing it and start flicking.  But there’s a line at what you'll sacrifice for your children.