Every scream is different. As a parent we can tell the difference in each one of our babies cries. There’s usually a unique pitch for hungry, tired, bored, or diaper change. Then, every baby tucks away a specially reserved, very high pitched, fast screeching. That is usually the sound of pain.
As our kids get older the cries eventually turn into yelling. They might yell because they are frustrated or need attention. They might get startled or stub a toe. The older they get there’s a pretty high chance most of their yelling will be either at a TV screen or at you.
When your child cries in a new, fancy style that you’ve never heard before it’s enough to make you drop whatever is in your hands and run to them. The unfamiliar cry is ugly. You have no idea what the problem is going to be until your standing in front of it. I’m not a fan of surprises to begin with. Surprise cries I can safely say I hate!
Last night I was finishing dinner with Thing 1 and Thing 3 I heard these blood curdling screams coming from Thing 2 upstairs. You know the kind you only hear in the movies when someone just finds someone that’s been stabbed 46 times. It was the hyperventilating screeching that only should be used if you need an Emergency room or if your starring in a Friday the 13th movie. My husband went upstairs with him a little while earlier to cut his hair. As I hopped upstairs taking 3 steps at a time all I could see was one of my sons ears laying on the bathroom floor. I couldn’t imagine anything else making him scream like that. Plus, it was easy to envision because I have childhood memories of my Mom snipping my brothers ears during their laundry room barber sessions. Then, I found out last week she just recently did a number on my Dad’s ear too! So, as I jumped up the 14 stairs, it felt like I was running a mile and the only thing I could see was a bloody ear laying on the dirty bathroom floor.
We have to start preparing Thing 2 a week ahead of time when he needs a haircut because he always gripes about it. He wants his hair like Justin Biebers old style but, he doesn’t understand that the Biebs has different hair. Thing 2 has my extremely thick hair so, it requires an owner that will brush it if you let it grow out any. It also grows very fast. After a couple days of arguing over the type of cut he can get we usually end up forgetting about it for a day or two. When we notice it again it’s usually an emergency type of status because the boy can be mistaken for a homeless child. It’s too hard to take him for a haircut during the school week so, we’ll give him a reminder on a Friday night.
Saturday will come and go. We’ll go all day Sunday when we realize at the dinner table that his resemblance is more like a hairy animal than our own son. This is our time to prepare for the week, make lunches, give baths etc so, I never want to run out right at that moment. I’m left with no choice than to cut it myself. Trust me this is a last resort option. Since I’m not the lady at Great Clips my kids think they can bark orders and say whatever they want during the entire process. This is not my idea of a fun time.
Last night my husband said “I’ll just do it. I’ll buzz it with a number 4 or 5 and you can finish it.”
The last thing I yelled as he walked up the stairs was “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Just let me finish eating and I’ll do it.”
(Did I mention…once upon a time I half ass went to cosmetology school? Definitely, no reason for them to start without me.)
I didn’t even have to turn the corner to notice the guilty oooh shit look that was written all over my husbands face.
As I finished a quick scan for a pool of blood and both of my sons ears you can not even imagine how pissed I was when I realized his maniacal screaming was the result of him not liking his hair cut. Okay, so my husband butchered it a little and it was a little uneven in random places but, that does not justify making me jump up the stairs thinking I was going to have to put my bra back on before the paramedics came.
This is where I yell :
“Holy Crap Thing 2!! I thought you were going to need an ambulance. For the love of God it’s only hair! You hear me…. HAIR! This is NOT an acceptable type of scream for HAIR!”
I spun my head around, placed the dagger eyes on my husband, and put out my hand.
“I told you to wait. Give. Me. The. Damn. Scissors.”
So, I never had to see any blood on the floors and my son was definitely not missing an ear. I fixed his hair the best I could because my husband put some crazy effort into his little game of barber shop and screwed it up royally. I never did get any thanks. What I got was this face:
So, I’ve decided the next time my husband feels like cutting someones hair maybe I should give him a mini tutorial. This son of mine would be the perfect model to use for the practice cut. It’s not polite to forget to say Thank you and I know for sure his Mother has taught him better than that!
Obviously, my sweet son didn’t get the memo that I have the tendency to jump at the chance to teach a lesson and I am the #1 fan of creative discipline. He really has no idea how lucky he is that I’m not going to make the little drama queen wear a pacifier around his neck to school tomorrow.
Thanks so much for stopping by. If you find this nonsense funny feel free to share it! If you missed yesterdays post please check it out. Things That Make You Go Hmm… There’s an update on Thing 3 and some really important information for anyone that has kids or even thinking about it. Hope everyone has a great Monday!