Every time my mom sees those photographs, however, she groans and laughs about the "terrible" haircuts my grandmother used to give them. It's true that the bangs are a bit too short and very square, but to me, that only enhances the charm. Yet, fifty years later, my mother is still traumatized by the memory of the at-home haircut.
Someday, if Madeline has a way to look back through the thousands of digital images I've stored, will she be equally mortified by what I've done to her?
I gave Madeline her first haircut last night. It did not turn out well, but I'm not really sure why I expected it to.
I've cut my own hair several times. Every time it has been a complete whim. Every time it has been a mistake and a complete disaster. I don't have the patience to cut my own hair. Nor do I have any kind of skill to deal with the thick, wavy, red rat's nest that resides on my dome.
Yet, cutting one's own hair is a bit like childbirth. After a time, you forget the horror and try again.
After her bath, I sat her in front of me, combed her hair as straight as I could get it, and without much thought, started snipping away.
Then I looked at the front of her head, realized I had given her a reverse mullet, and chopped the bangs off too. The whole thing was over in no more than three minutes.
Since her hair was wet, I couldn't fully assess the damage, but I knew it wasn't good. This morning, I as I pulled Madeline from her crib, I got the full affect.
The first problem is that I cut it way too short in the back. It's also crooked. Her bangs are also way too short, but at least they aren't crooked. Of course, that part of her hair is curly, so it's hard to tell. Meanwhile, the hair over her right ear looks fine, but the left side of her head is too long. She also has some random long curls left in the middle in places.
But hey, it will grow back. It only took Madeline two years to grow the hair she had before I cut it, which is just enough time for me to forget that I can't cut hair.