Another bad haircut. The stylist tried to give me the layers I requested and somehow it went terribly wrong. I had two flaps on the side like dog ears and a short, blunt cut in the back. The stylist who I wanted but was busy came over in the middle of the haircut and stopped the one who was hacking away in what I think may have been panic. Maybe he confused layered with bi-level. They conferred for a few minutes and then the good stylist asked me if it was okay. I wasn't sure what he was referring to but no, I wasn't a fan of looking like a basset hound. I repeated my original request for shoulder length, layered hair. Long pause. I had not yet seen the back but I suspected that it was several inches beyond shoulder length.
To make matters worse SB came along from his shampoo and audibly sucked in his breath. Oh dear. This was not going well. I looked at the floor and noticed a large pile on long hair. Now it was my turn to feel panicked.
To cut a long story short (heh) I now have a bowl on top of my head. Like I used to have when I was a child and my mother cut my hair. It was the best that they could do. They had to shave part of the back of my head to get it even in length. I used to have hair down to my waist. SB loved running his hands through it. Now he can rub on the prickly part in the back, that is if I can get him to stop weeping.
To make matters worse SB came along from his shampoo and audibly sucked in his breath. Oh dear. This was not going well. I looked at the floor and noticed a large pile on long hair. Now it was my turn to feel panicked.
To cut a long story short (heh) I now have a bowl on top of my head. Like I used to have when I was a child and my mother cut my hair. It was the best that they could do. They had to shave part of the back of my head to get it even in length. I used to have hair down to my waist. SB loved running his hands through it. Now he can rub on the prickly part in the back, that is if I can get him to stop weeping.
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