I am not a groomer. Ask my dog Homer, if he could talk he would tell you "No".
I am not a Barber or hairdresser. Unfortunately, you can ask my husband and he will tell you "No!"
I have to give a little background info as to why I would even attempt to be a groomer or hairdresser.
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My husband is head baseball coach for his Junior High baseball team. This is his first year as head coach, he is usually assistant head coach. I am so proud of him! Dave's team consists of 13 players and maybe 5 have ever played junior high baseball before this year. As a way to motivate the team, he said he would shave his head if they won two games. They are 3-0! Yes, they won the first three games to start the season. I think we may have under estimated their baseball skills- they are pretty good!
This weekend my husband had to get his head shaved. He has been going to the same hairdresser for about 5 years now.. Well, she was out for her birthday and I simply suggested I had (A LONG time ago) shaved my husband's head and felt confident that I could do it again. It was going well.
Here is a before picture:
The team wanted a mohawk, but decided a shaved head would be o.k. too. I shaved the sides and some of the top (Not exactly Mr.T but it works) and grab the camera. click! It was still going very well. buzzzzzzzz, b - u - z - z, buuu. Dead! The batteries die. Darn!
Dave with a mohawk:
Have no fear! Dave has another set of clippers and they are fully charged. O.k.
First off, let me start by saying we had a huge, HUGE misunderstanding. When he gave me the clippers I thought he had adjusted the clippers accordingly and he thought I was aware that I needed to adjust them. Let me set the scene, he is sitting on a chair, I am standing right in front of him with the clippers in hand. BUZZ.. Of course, I take the first snip by going straight down the middle. HOLY CRAP! HOLY CRAP! HOLY CRAP! Dave! He jumps off the chair and runs straight for the mirror. He is quiet for about 30 seconds and I hold my breathe the whole time. I am sure it is the quiet before the storm. He didn't scream but he did question me and make it very clear that this was NOT what he had in mind when he agreed to me shaving his head.
And here is the end result:
Sorry Honey! I promise I will NEVER, EVER try to cut your hair again. I will leave it to the professionals.
Note to self: I am not a groomer, barber or hairdresser. And I will probably never live this down. I overheard Dave telling the dog, "Homer you better behave yourself, otherwise mommy is going to give you one of her special haircuts!"
Yep! I am not going to live this down.