Punishments for Crimes Against Hair

Graham hadn’t had a haircut in about ten weeks, so on Saturday, I made noon appointments at Supercuts for both of us. As I did, he headed out to do his weekend ten-mile run. He wound up getting back at 11:30 am, which is when we needed to leave. When he walked in the door finally, I barked at him, “Grab some deodorant and a brush. Pull on a sweatshirt, and let’s go.”

He moved ever so slowly to carry out these tasks. I prodded him with, “Dude, come on. Get upstairs and get the deodorant and brush.”

At last, he said, “Where am I going to get a brush?”

“Wherever you keep it when you use it every day,” I said.

“I don’t have a brush, Dad,” he said.

“Of course you have a brush.”

“I don’t.”

“Fine. Then grab a comb. Let’s go.”

“Where should I get a comb?”

“Come on. You must have a comb.”

“I don’t.”

“So you never run a brush or comb through your hair. Ever. That’s what you’re telling me.”

“That’s right.”

Readers, he is fifteen years old. I promise you, he has a brush . . . somewhere, he has a brush. The fact that he thinks he doesn’t . . . lord, help me.

So I grabbed my brush, gave it to him, and we hustled out the door.

We needn’t have rushed so fast. The waiting room was full, and despite the appointment, they took everyone who was there before us, and we didn’t get seen till 12:40. At one of our last appointments, Graham wrote down in his Notes app what to ask for when the stylist asked what he wanted, so now, when he gets called, I let him handle his own discussions. We both wound up in chairs at the same time and across the room, so I didn’t pay too much attention to how his went. We wrapped up our haircuts a bit past one pm and headed out.

The next morning, we were riding to Church together, and Lauren noticed that Graham had pulled a hoodie over his dress clothes and had the hood over his head.

“You cold back there?” she asked. It was a fairly warm day for us.

“Think it’s okay if I just wear my hoodie through all of Church?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “You should look a little nicer to do the sacrament.”

“My hair is a crime,” he said.

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

“She went way too short on the sides and back. It looks ridiculous.”

“It does not,” I said. “She did a one to a two just like you told her.”

“She did a one for way too much.”

“Plus, the back looks crooked,” Lauren said.

“Oh for crying out loud,” I said. “It does not.”

“It’s not awful,” Lauren said. “Just not the greatest.”

“It’s a straight-up crime,” said Graham. “And I demand the Supercuts lady go on trial for it. With the electric chair as a possible penalty.”

“Take your stupid sweatshirt off,” I said. “Your hair looks fine. It looks like it always does after you cut it.”

He pulled his sweatshirt off. “It does not. Elijah is going to make mad fun of me.”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t made fun of his last haircut,” I said.

“It was awful, though,” Graham said. “Even Elijah said that.”

“Well, you made your bed, so you get to lie in it.”

I’m sure you’ll be shocked to know that no one said anything about Graham’s hair at Church. Meanwhile, Santa has a few stocking stuffers from the hair care aisle to grab for Graham this week. Let’s see if he can hold on to them.