We made a classic mistake one Saturday morning as parents. I was snug in bed, enjoying the warmth, when my husband, Mike, came in and nuzzled my neck. We ended up dozing off for a solid two hours — and not even in the romantic sense, just blissfully asleep. It turns out that exhausted parents like us can occasionally fall into such traps.
With three energetic boys aged 6, 4, and 2, our house was left unattended for those two hours, and it was a disaster waiting to happen. Upon waking, we found a living room in chaos, bedrooms turned upside down, and even more devastation in the formal area, complete with foam Christmas stickers stuck to the hardwood floors and a thick layer of Legos scattered everywhere. But there was something else that caught my eye.
“Mike?” I whispered, “Does Sunny’s hair seem a bit sparse to you?” Sunny is our youngest. He usually sported long, flowing golden hair, but now it looked more than just a bit tousled; it appeared…thinned. Oh no, I realized. Someone had taken scissors to it. Chunks of hair were missing from the back and sides, and in one spot, the cut went from shoulder-length to just two inches from his head.
I had a sentimental attachment to my sons’ long hair. My 4-year-old had to persuade me for weeks before I agreed to chop his mid-back-length locks to a style “like daddy’s.” I even saved the ponytail! My oldest was growing his hair out surfer-style, and I had envisioned our baby following suit. I affectionately called him Goldilocks. While strangers sometimes mistook him for a girl, I cherished his beautiful locks.
Now, it was a complete mess.
The main culprit quickly revealed himself: my middle son, Leo. At just 4 years old, he wanted his brother’s hair to resemble his own recent haircut. Perhaps he merely wanted to play with scissors, but there were golden hair clumps mingling with the Christmas stickers on the floor. In that moment, I felt a wave of frustration and wanted to scorch all his favorite toys.
Instead, I opted for a stern lecture titled “Scissors and Where They Belong.” After that, I locked myself in the shower for a good, ugly cry. I’m not ashamed—those long-haired boys make them distinctive and unique, and I’ve always adored that look. Maybe it was all those post-grunge tunes I listened to in high school.
After my emotional release, I had to make a decision: should we embrace the disaster, which I dubbed “The Great Haircut Incident,” or seek a professional’s help to fix it? I preferred to let it be, fearing that a hairdresser would take it upon themselves to further chop it for the sake of “evening it out.” Mike, however, who didn’t have a stake in the hair length debate, insisted it needed a touch-up. We bickered until he realized I was merely resisting more drastic cuts, and I lost that battle.
“It’s just hair. It’ll grow back,” he said, which is the classic line offered to parents in these situations. True, indeed, but it provided little comfort.
Reluctantly, I agreed to take Sunny to the local Kiddie Haircuttery, a place filled with vibrant statues of smiling scissors and combs where kids earn prizes after their cuts. They sat Sunny atop two booster seats and wrapped him in a colorful cape. The stylist asked the dreaded question, “So, do you want me to even it up?”
“No, I want as much length preserved as possible while keeping it socially acceptable,” I blurted before Mike could interject.
As she began trimming, she kept asking, “Is this okay, Mom?” Mostly, I nodded. “I’ve never seen such a creative brother haircut,” she remarked. “Usually, it’s girls chopping bangs.” I pointed to Leo, who wore a proud grin, knowing he had come up with a clever excuse.
“That’s soooooo cute!” she exclaimed, and I had to stifle my urge to roll my eyes.
In the end, Sunny ended up with a modified bowl cut, slightly longer in the front. It was somewhat pop-star-esque. Everyone agreed he was adorable, he got a prize, and we headed home. I pretended to embrace the new look, but deep down, I longed for his former long hair.
Months later, his hair has finally returned to its previous glory, and I’m thankful. Yes, we dozed off on a Saturday morning, and it could have been much worse than a sibling haircut. Plus, it’s true: hair does grow back. However, the guilt of that Saturday morning snooze still lingers.
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Summary
A typical Saturday morning for a couple turns into chaos when their sons wreak havoc while they nap. The youngest son, Sunny, ends up with a disastrous haircut thanks to his brother Leo’s curiosity with scissors. The mother, Jane, grapples with her attachment to her sons’ long hair and the guilt of dozing off while chaos ensued. In the end, she learns that hair will grow back, but the guilt from that morning lingers.