Quote:
Originally Posted by MikeWaters
Farrah cuts my hair. She didn't want to, but I told her 1) I don't care what my hair looks like, 2) I hate going to the barber.
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See, you *do* have something in common with Flash! This is exactly how it works at my house.
Sometime after we got married, Flash annnounced that I would be cutting his hair. I said something like, "Hell no. You'll look awful and I don't want to do it anyway."
He said something like "I don't care what it looks like and I don't want to go to the barber. It's a waste of time and money."
I said something like, "I don't care. I'm not going to cut your hair. Go anyway."
He said, "I won't. I'll just let my hair grow out until you get so embarrassed you give up and cut it."
I said, "I don't think so. It'll get all long and shaggy and itchy and you'll give up and go to the barber."
So he initiated one of the few battles of wills I have ever lost: he refused to go to the barber, and his hair grew
and grew
and grew
until he looked like a cross between Art Garfunkel, Benji the dog, and a mad scientist.
So finally I bought a set of clippers and cut his hair. I cut his hair to this day, and now the two rugrats, too.
I hate it.
HATE IT, but trust me, it's better than the alternative.
I have, on occasion, gotten so frustrated cutting his hair that I've thought about pointing out the existence of establishments like the one Runner mentions, but in our case I don't think sending him to Hooters Hairstylists is a good idea. Besides, they always show sports in there and he'd just turn around and walk out in protest.
.