The days of May, Day 18

Secret wish revealed!

I have always wanted to go to cosmetology school. Doing people's hair is so fun for me and I would love to have a salon in my house. I bet I would be good at it.

I mean, look at the evidence.

I put extensions in my roommate's hair once. They looked like plastic barbie hair. I think she took them out the same day.

I put a different kind of braided extensions in my friend's hair. The mom of a 12 year old saw them and paid me to put them in her daughter's hair. I did. It only took me like 11 hours.

I dyed another friend's hair from blond to red once. And by red I mean pink. And by pink I mean not what she had in mind. She went to a salon the next day to get it fixed.

I put highlights in a former roommate's hair. After we were done and she had left I received a text from her that said something to the effect of: "I don't think I'm going to go out tonight. I just got my hair done and I don't like it." This text was obviously not meant for me.

Or was it...

Clearly the beauty school of hard knocks benefits the beautician more than the client. And don't think I have escaped being experimented on. I too have experienced hairtastrophe when I had a highlight job done wrong at the beauty school. Platinum and orange stripes my friends. That was a fun one to grow out.

Well maybe someday when Tyson and I are rich and bored (sometime in the near future for sure) I'll go to school and live the dream.

But wait, all is not lost. Tyson suggested several months ago that he would like me to cut his hair. He figured it would save us money and now that I was a wife and soon to be mother (this was when I was pregnant) I surely had the skills to become the family barber. I have to be honest, I wasn't so sure. I mean, I have mad skills with girls' hair, not boys'. But the call of hair wanting to be cut was strong and I was weak so I went with him for his last regular haircut to see how it was done.

I'm pretty sure the girl cutting his hair was getting nervous what with me spying on her from behind a magazine. I was trying to be stealth but I had to see everything she was doing so I couldn't look away that much. I imagined her thinking that I was some sort of crazy jealous prego lady who didn't like other women touching her husband.

Or she might not have thought twice about it.

So now I cut his hair for him and every 6 weeks we high five each other about saving another 20 bucks.

This is an old picture but his hair is fairly short so I must have cut it recently. Sometimes I get scared that he secretly wishes I wasn't cutting it because I know I don't do as good a job as a professional but he always tells me it's fine.

My next fear is that he's going to convince me to cut Logan's hair and things will go horribly horribly wrong and I'll either cut his ear off or make him look less cute. I'm not ready for that.