I laugh a lot. In 38 years I have yet to find a situation where humour couldn’t be extracted however dark or inappropriate.
Then last Friday morning I found the exception that proves the rule when Sonny came bounding down the stairs. I winced, or maybe it was a recoil. Oblivious to the horror that had befallen his head he looked at me sheepishly,
“What’s wrong daddy?”
For once I was speechless. Speechless and mortified.
My first reaction would normally be to grab the camera. Instead I gave him a plastic spoon with his breakfast for fear he’d catch a glimpse of his own reflection in a metal one.
You see Sonny has an issue with his hair. Barbers have an issue with cutting it. I’m guessing Social Services would have an issue with me using a straight jacket.
The last barber in town prepared to tackle it made it quite clear we weren’t welcome back by charging the full adult price and replacing his usual small talk with exaggerated tutting. To be fair to Janet we’d pretty much run out of ideas, at least I had, it became quite apparent that she had one last trick up her sleeve.
And so, with Sonny asleep in his car seat, Janet appeared to have given a drunken monkey some blunt shears, locked him in the car, and walked away.
Words can’t describe just how bad it was. Further proof of the catastrophe came when his granny came round and began with,
“Oh Sonny, you’ve had your hair…” see, she couldn’t even finish her sentence!
His Auntie Jackie arrived a little later, and fell to the floor laughing.
I refused to let him leave the house, I even refused to take a photo for fear I would be sued by my own son were it ever to see the light of day.
His fringe was at a 45 degree angle, starting from his crown! On one side it went over his ear in a high pointed triangle, on the other a square. The back appeared to have been partly hacked, partly singed.
We were due to have a weekend away without the kids for my birthday. I refused to go until the problem was resolved. Luckily with his Auntie Jackie here to offer an extra pair of restraining hands Janet managed to find a hairdresser prepared to do the humane thing and
put him down shave the lot off.
I wouldn’t have minded so much had a similar attempt not been made a year prior that had left Sonny with an 80s style mullet.
My last rant on this subject is that he now looks like a little tearaway. With hair his public tantrums were met with sympathetic looks, now they’re met with stares of disgust aimed at me. I might as well get his ear pierced and be done with it!
I thought by putting this in writing I may just find an ounce of humour in the situation but no. I’m off for a lie down!
Actually, as it happened we did still have our weekend away which was wonderful.
We had two (count them two) lie ins. The plan was to watch the Olympic opening ceremony in Spinningfields. We had an early dinner, found ourselves a deckchair, and settled down with a Mojito. It was cold. By 8.30pm we were back at the hotel watching from under a duvet.
Our Saturday was a lazy mooch around Manchester museums and the truly wonderful Alice in Wonderland Tea Room in the village. If you’re ever in Manchester then you have to find this treasure at the Richmond Tea Rooms. Wonderful staff, an amazing selection of teas, and possibly the best cream scone I’ve ever had. It was so good I didn’t think about Sonny’s hair once!