For a couple of weeks now, Danny’s been asking me to cut his hair. We’ve been putting it off and finding excuses not to do it…until today. We had an entire Saturday with nothing going on, and so it seemed only logical to make it happen (I mean, I couldn’t even see his ears his hair was getting so long). It went so well last time, how bad could it be?
Before we began, he told me he wanted it short on the sides and long on top. I do not particularly like this style, and told him so. Then he said, “It’s hot (the haircut, that is) right now! Adam Levine has it!” I figured Adam Levine must be Avril’s husband, or else some B-list celebrity I had never heard of. Because I am obviously so up on the news and who’s hot and who’s not.
After I confessed to not knowing who this Adam fellow is, he (Danny, not Adam) showed me this picture …
I told him it was still a bad idea. (Because there is no way I could ever make someone’s hair look like that.)
He insisted, and I finally gave in. I started out with the clippers, then moved to the thinning shears, and was just pulling out our desk scissors when Danny decided things were not going as planned. And then, he got a good look at my progress. And his thoughts were not positive. He had me watch a YouTube video, and then he gave me further instructions. I kept cutting and shearing and buzzing…to no avail.
Finally, he told me to, “Just do it.” I was to use the clippers on his whole head, because apparently at that point, the very best option was a buzz cut. Uh-oh. Even I know that a buzz cut is never the very best option. I began to the sounds of whimpering. “I worked so hard,” he said, “I’ve been growing it out for so long. My hair…”
Both of us were having a horrible time. He was distraught with his new hair (or lack thereof) and I was so frustrated that it had come to this. If only he hadn’t asked for the silly style in the first place, I thought to myself. Then he started talking to me about how he works in the business world and he could never move up with his buzz cut. Umm…he wanted to move up? We could’ve found the money for a professional haircut if I knew that’s what he was concerned about.
I told him he looked very handsome (true), vacuumed us both of (because that’s how we roll around here), and left the room. I just had to escape the drama and self-pity.
“I made a mistake.”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“I MADE A MISTAKE. I MADE A MISTAKE!!!”
I walked towards our bathroom, expecting him to have knocked a picture frame off the wall, or at the worst, accidentally dropped a clump of hair on my toothbrush while cleaning up.
Oh no. It was much worse. He had taken matters (or the clippers, in this case) into his own hands. The buzz cut had reached a whole new level. Danny said he needed my help. I went over his head 6 more times with the clippers and he bemoaned the fact that he was now sporting a military cut. Oh so far from the original (see above photo) idea.
And now, the official reveal…
(insert royal crier similar to the one used to announce Prince George’s birth)
I present…the one, the only, the handsome: Danny Everett!
P.S. Don’t let this story make you feel too bad for him. We were playing paper football this afternoon and I was playing really poorly and wanted to pretend to hit myself in the head with a decorative vase. Except I actually banged it into my head really hard. So we’re both suffering today.