There will be no photos

Getting used to life here in Germany has been interesting. Actually, some things I find I like better around here. Others, not so much. On top of everything, I’m having to learn how to be much more frugal and stretch a dollar like every other good German Hausfrau (housewife). Shoot me in the face…

Buying things from the generic brand wasn’t so hard. At first, I didn’t know which ones were the name brand items anyway. And once I found I like the cheaper brand of certain things, I didn’t see much point in switching. Exception: Pasta. Not all brands are equal. Fortunately, I’ve found Barilla on sale twice for under a Euro per box. So I’ve stocked up on the good stuff. I also make some things from scratch and go without those luxuries I loved so much back home. (I painted my own toenails for the first time in like 4 years)

HOWEVER. There is one thing I will NEVER, NEVER, NEVER do again to save a buck: At-home haircut.

We took O to a cheap-ey salon about 2 months ago. The woman was not nice and scared him. So he cried and squirmed and she made some comment like “I can’t work like this”. Basically, she didn’t like kids and didn’t want to cut his hair and O knew it and freaked. He has never cried like that before getting his hair cut. I told Husband that we should find a place better suited to kids next time. He and his mother both said, “Oh, nobody brings their kids to a hair dresser, they just do it themselves.” Given the raggedy-looking state of some kids I’ve seen, that may very well be true. So A basically said, “Oh let’s save the $ and you just do it yourself.” Please note, he did not volunteer to help in any fashion, much less, cut it himself. No, that responsibility is on me…. Now, I have trimmed my brother’s hair before. It didn’t look great, but it held him over til he could get to a professional. A little gel and some styling and it covered mistakes. So, I could try it, right?

I prepped everything. I put the chair in the center of the living room in front of the TV. I had cartoons on for entertainment. The comb was sitting in a cup of water and I had my good hair trimming scissors out. I gave O a popsicle and put him in the chair. He was good at first. He tilted his head when I asked and didn’t wiggle too much. I, on the other hand, still managed to screw it up in every way imaginable. The hair but his ears was cut too high up and I couldn’t get it to blend smoothly, and round it off. The layering looks like I gave the scissors to a mentally handicapped + visually impaired person for that part. I was beginning to think, I should have really brought him to a professional, when it happened.

A chunk of hair fell from where I had just cut his bangs. Right onto his half-melted popsicle. I tried to stop him, but it was too late. While I was trying to get the scissors off of my fingers he put the ice cream, hair and all, in his mouth. I’m screaming at A to get me a wet rag. I’m telling O to spit it out. O is frantically wiping at his mouth with his other hand that has hair on it already. I watch in horror as he starts gagging, yelling at A to now find O’s juice.

Never again folks. I don’t care if I have to fast for a week and take the money out of the food budget. Never again am I doing the at home haircut for O.

Advertisements

One thought on “There will be no photos

  1. Oh hair in the mouth… so gross. I’ve attempted trims on miles, and I find it easiest to do in the tub. Water right there… doesn’t really matter where the hair falls, and you can rinse them off afterwards. But I respect your decision. Where can I go to donate to the “give O a professional haircut” fund?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s