After my harrowing experience late last week, you might think I’m more cautious about getting hair cuts.

Actually, since it turned out well, I’m now happy to go there.

And today, we decided to have our sons join in on the action and get their first ever salon haircuts.

From the same artist who repaired my nasty cut.

Here are some photos journaling the milestone.

First is a photo of the boys from this morning with their standard look they’ve worn for some time, albeit overgrown.

Last is a photo of the three Ding men posing at a mirror at a Target store this evening to capture our three new hair-dos.

In between are photos I shot during both of their cuts.

A good haircut is hard to find.

I found this guy on yelp that was supposed to be good.

So I swung by in the morning yesterday, only to discover he was booked til evening.

Which is good (means he’s probably excellent, since his appointment log is full)… but bad, since I wanted the chop yesterday for various reasons, not the least of which was cuz I knew if I put it off, my shaggy hair would likely not get love for another week or two.

So I decided to fal lback to a hair salon in the vicinity where I’ve gotten humdrum-quality cuts before, though nothing catastrophic.

The thing is, for this cut, I specifically wanted a different look, a bit shorter, etc.

I’d even printed out a picture of this familiar fellow to give the stylist an idea of what I was looking for:

Big mistake.

Not only did she not get the look right, but early on in the cut she asked me, “Is this short enough?”

What can you say to a lady with sharp scissors who’s holding a lock of your hair?

But inside I was thinking, “WHY OH WHY are you asking me?  Don’t you have a sense of what you’re trying to accomplish already?”

Sadly, the answer to that question was clearly no.

She had no idea.

Unless she was trying to accomplish hackish butchery.

As she wound up, I had very little idea of what to say.  It didn’t look terrible (at that point), maybe cuz she’d gelled down some of the more horrendous angles.

But when I came up, the seriously dampened response and lackluster expression on my lovely wife’s face told me that I had not succeeded in my quest to satisfy her request that I get a “younger look.”

Unless “younger” means “lawnmower ran me over.”

Notice the uneven sides and the poofy rounded top.  The kids even commented that I had a “mohawk” cut:

I think it’s more accurate to say I got a chia pet chop.

At this point, what could I do?  I’d paid for a chop, and cheapskate that I am, I wasn’t about to go get another haircut to attempt to fix a bad haircut from a stylist I’d never met (though he had glowing reviews online).

Was I?

Lois even thought it was absurd.  “Just let it grow out,” she said.

So I waited overnight, and asked Lois again this morning, “Is it bad?  Tell me the truth.”

“Yes.”

Ouch.

Then I looked more carefully in the mirror, saw the above coiffure, and thought to myself, you look like a telescoping duster for brushing cobwebs:

I wasn’t going to suffer this for however long it took me to get another cut, which on average, is 1-3 months.

So I decided, in desperation, to go back to plan A.

I immediately called the first stylist (the one who was booked all day yesterday) and asked if he had any openings today.

He said he was open during lunch hour.

So I made the appointment and brought the wife and kids to the salon.  So as to have a 3rd party observer who cared who could openly say, “NO, STOP, I HAVE TO LIVE WITH THAT MAN.  PLEASE STOP!”

And I was walked into the salon, I told the stylist what had happened.

He looked at me and said, “You got a haircut?” as if it wasn’t obvious from the state of my hair.  Note: he’d never seen me before my hair, so he had no way of knowing that I had.

Then he sat me down and within 3 seconds, I kid you not, said, “This is totally uneven.”

[Note: when a stylist "finishes" cutting your hair and then brings a big mirror around for you to check out his/her work, has anyone other than me ever noticed how hard it is to really tell whether it's actually any good?  It's kinda like knocking on watermelons, you just kinda do it cuz you're copying everyone else.]

Then he got to work.

With clear precision and an artistic touch that was clearly absent from yesterday’s hatchet lady.

And 20 minutes later… my wife was nodding, I was starting to feel better, and all was happy in the world.  I’m no Tom Cruise, but at least I’m not a cobweb duster either.

Here’s the final product.  I’m satisfied.  Scroll up and compare to see the stark contrast.  Yay.

Such as our Andrew’s declaration at the end of a day of little gifts and frequent birthday wishes.  Nevertheless, I think he enjoyed it (he said the same thing a year ago about “not feeling five.”)  Here are some photos from the day:

And the saga continues. . . . .

The original patch I made was not snug enough so I made another one out of soft fleece.  It covers his eye better and to make it more fun for him, I had him pick a special button as a decoration.  He chose a rainbow button and here’s my boy with his new and improved eye patch.

Because his face is so small, his glasses keep slipping from his nose.  No matter how we tweak the legs of the glasses or the nose pad, they just slip.  So!  Off to the internet I went to do some research.  After visiting several websites, I came up with my own version of a head strap that goes around the back of his head so to hold his glasses in place.  I’m just so happy that his glasses no longer slip and that they stay on his face.

Whooo hooo!  Mission accomplished.  I hope the saga ends here.

Just when I thought our “four eyes” saga was over, it turns out our younger son not only needs eye correction but also has a slightly lazy eye since one eye is much better than the other.  So his optometrist wants him to start wearing a patch over his left (stronger) eye, half-time.  His right eye, the weaker of the two, needs more practice which is why we need to patch his good eye.  So sad.  I don’t know what to call my boy now.  He’s certainly not four eyes anymore.  Maybe three eyes?  Or back to two eyes?  Pirate eye?  Whatever it is, I still think he’s cute!

Initially, we stopped by the drugstore but didn’t find a Band-Aid type of patch for his eye that the optometrist suggested.  So after some searching the web, I decided to make a custom eye patch for my boy.  I found an awesome eye patch tutorial.  I love technology!  I immediately went to work and came up with an eye patch for my boy.

Here’s my cutie with his eye patch:

I have poor eyesight.

My brother has poor eyesight.

My sister has poor eyesight.

My parents have poor eyesight.

My husband has poor eyesight.

My husband’s brother has poor eyesight.

My husband’s parents have poor eyesight.

To sum it up, my side of family has poor eyesight and so does my husband’s side.  Yet, somehow I secretly hoped that this dominant genetic trait wouldn’t get passed down to my offspring.

Sadly, to no avail.

So now I present to you my boys in spectacles:

I’m still holding out hope for my girls.

From now until 1/31, at ArtsCow.com, get TWO 8X10 canvas prints for $7.99, shipping included! Just upload your photos, select your two canvas prints (same photo or two different ones), and use the coupon code B1F1CANVAS8X10 at checkout!

We’ve already taken advantage of the offer to take a bunch of portraits of the kids and print a bunch of canvas prints of these: