I know a lot of people give their small children home haircuts. Especially for boys. It's not supposed to be hard.
I have a long history of giving very bad haircuts. Disastrous haircuts. Too short. Uneven. Reminiscent of mange. Most of these unhappy experiments have had my brother as the victim. Once my husband. No one else has been so foolish to come near me when I'm wielding scissors.
When I was pregnant, I made the Vol-in-Law promise that he would never ever let me near my own child's head with shears. It was for the best really, I said.
Buddy was a bald baby and didn't have a lot of hair for a very long time, so it was easy for me to keep my resolution and my husband to keep his promise. The boy's first several haircuts were given by a relative and a brilliant Polish hairdresser who seems to have now moved on from giving haircuts to children.
Last summer, I had a go. We have a hair-clipping set that my brother had left here. And I didn't do a bad job. I didn't do a good job, but it wasn't shameful. Buddy sits quietly enough if you worked quickly.
This past week though, I tried again. And I'm afraid I returned to old form. A very bad haircut indeed.
I think we're going to need professional help.
Update: Hair Repair
After posting this, the Vol-in-Law took Buddy down to the barber's for a little repair job.
"Get your coat on, you're going to get your hair cut, Buddy."
"Where are we going?"
"To the barber shop. A man's going to cut your hair."
"The barber, he's a like a hair doctor. He's going to fix your hair."
"Mommy's not going to cut my hair?"
"No, she's more like the hair butcher."
He came back a little while later like this:
With gel in his hair. (I'm not too crazy about that) and informing us that only men could cut his hair. He thought a moment before adding. "But not Daddy."