My Daughters Gave Me a Haircut and the Word 'Mohawk' Was in the Air

Thanks for the TIPS!I was feeling a little shaggy, so I asked my kids to give me a haircut. My eldest said she wasn’t interested, but my youngest looked up at me with delight.There have been many times throughout the years when they’ve decided to do my hair. They’ll grab ribbons and bows and clips and go to work. Usually I can’t see what they’re doing. But I can see the mixture of delight and concentration on their faces as they tug and bind and pull my hair.“Ow!”“Sorry daddy!” they giggle. But there’s a minor rebuke in their tone as if to say, “This is just part of it daddy, beauty is pain, don’t you know that?”My youngest has been wanting to cut my hair. It’s been in the atmosphere for a long time. So, when I asked her, her eyes lit up with delight.“What do you want me to do?”“Well, just take a bit off the sides, but leave the top.”“So… like a mohawk?”“No, not a mohawk! Definitely not a mohawk!”Mohawk… are you kidding me?That’s like going in for surgery and as the anesthesia takes hold, the last thing you hear is the doctor asking, “Now, which knee was it again?”My daughter had noticed the concerned look on my face and she’d started giggling.“No mohawk right? Did I convey that? Can you put the word out of your mind?”“Well, you’re the one who keeps saying it.”Sigh.I got the mirror and the little stool and the extension cord and the clippers. I always cut my hair outside.I’ve been cutting my own hair for years. I use “number 3.” I attach the spacer to the clippers and run back and forth like I’m mowing the lawn. Cutting things is my responsibility in this household. But I’ve found my hair doesn’t grow back the way it used to, I think it’s the stress of this year.“Now see, this is the clippers and this is the on/off button, and this is how you hold it.”My daughter insisted on holding the clippers way back at the end so the front bounced around all over the place.“You have more control if you hold it closer to the cutting end.”“Why do I need control?”She took a couple passes like she was trying to win the Indianapolis 500. The blade didn’t have time to cut and she just pulled and tugged and ground on through.“Ow!”“I told you daddy, beauty is pain!”“Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be that much pain!”Out of the corner of my eye I saw her smile. It was the same smile she wore when she wielded her ribbons and clips and bows—and miracles.Miracle hair cuts.I relaxed.After a while, my eldest came down to watch. She must have heard the commotion from her room. My hair was all over the place on the stone patio.“Wow, you took off a lot.”“Don’t tell me.”Bzzzz, went the clippers.They kept going, eventually they called mom. “Mom! Come see, we cut dad’s hair.”Mom came out and had a look. “Hmm,” she said, “that was a choice.”I brushed the hair off my shoulders and went to go have a look. The girls were delighted. One more new experience.I looked at my reflection and thought, “Well, at least it’s not a mohawk.”They did just fine, just like they do with all things. You’ll see their handiwork when you tune in for my next live.You all make this newsletter happen! Thanks for your sponsorship! I have payment tiers starting at as little as twenty dollars a year.Upgrade at 30% offUpgrade at 40% offUpgrade at 50% offUpgrade at 60% offI'm so happy you're here, and I'm looking forward to sharing more thoughts with you tomorrow.My CoSchedule referral linkHere’s my referral link to my preferred headline analyzer tool. If you sign up through this, it’s another way to support this newsletter (thank you).I'd Rather Be Writing is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to I'd Rather Be Writing at walterrhein.substack.com/subscribe