The Haircut...s

It seems like when I was in pre-school I was constantly trying to find ways to drive Helen crazy. I promise it wasn't intentional! Anyway, I had never had a haircut before, but I had seen plenty, and it looked like entirely too much fun! I decided that it had to happen. The next day, I waited until just the right moment. Helen was busy around the house and keeping an eye on me, as she always did because it was absolutely imperative that she did. Just then the telephone rang, and these were the days when you had to stand at the phone because there were no cordless phones! It was my Nanny! Yes, this meant she would be talking for at least an hour! I grabbed the scissors, and started chopping away at my blond locks! It was so much fun, and then Helen turned around. Uh oh. She was furious, but it was too late. The damage was done. Helen then had no choice but to take me to get my first OFFICIAL haircut. I looked like Peter Pan for quite a while. In fact, we were watching a home video one day and there was a little blond boy playing on our our slide. I said, "Who is that little boy?" and just then I heard dad on the video yell "Hey, Kellie!" and wouldn't you know it, that little boy wasn't me! How embarrassing...

If you've ever seen pictures of me when I was in elementary school, you know I had bangs. Not just bangs, but BANGS. The thick, straight across bangs that look like you've taped a piece of toast to your forehead. I hated them, and I often told Helen how I didn't want them, yet every single time we went to get my haircut, there they were. Being a youngster, first grade to be exact, I didn't quite understand the concept of how to get rid of bangs. I decided to take it upon myself to figure it out, and my conclusion was that you simply cut them off. Duh! Confidently, I took the scissors into my room, wet my hair with a spray bottle, and combed them straight down my face. I had watched the beautician cut them many a time, and I did just as she did. I decided that rather than just make a big cut, I should do it gradually. I lifted up a big chunk of bang from the middle and snipped it! I looked in mirror and thought to myself, "Well, crap." I immediately panicked. This clearly wasn't how you got rid of bangs! I tried to even them up with the rest of my bangs, but the more I cut, the worse it got. I didn't know what to do and I was running out of time before someone came looking for me. I picked up some hairspray and coated my bangs in it as I combed them back. I looked in the mirror to find my bangs sticking straight up! I needed something that would hold them back until the hairspray dried! I grabbed a headband and slicked it back over my bangs. "There, crisis averted," I thought.

I went to bed and had forgotten all about it by the time morning rolled around. Helen was running late for work and had no time to fix my hair, so she just yelled "Jeff, do something with her hair!" as she rushed out the door. Dad came in to find my rock hard, hair sprayed bangs sticking straight up. (Another moment when he asked God "how much does a man have to take?") Dad then had to call Helen at work to inform her that he couldn't do anything with my hair because I had cut it. I don't know exactly what she said, but I'm sure it wasn't good. They had to take me to get them straightened, so my bangs were only about an inch long for weeks. It just so happened that my birthday was right around the corner, and they had grown out a little since then, but still, not good. Enjoy the photo evidence.Even though I can't get the freaking picture to turn right side up!