Somehow Mr. CfP decided that I would be his new barber. I am not quite sure how this all came about. I must not have protested loudly enough and sincerely enough, because last week, an expensive pair of barber scissors arrived at our house via UPS.
Those scissors sat in a drawer for a week while I searched the intertubes for instructions on how to cut a man's curly locks. Hair Cutting For Dummies arrived from the library one day but that book did NOT inspire confidence.
I hemmed and hawed and read and thought. Meanwhile, Michael's blossoming 'fro was starting to resemble Linc's from the Mod Squad (if you're too young to know what I'm talking about... well, never mind...)
(photo courtesy of Wikipedia)
Finally, we decided that today was going to be the big day. The haircut was long past due. Today would be the THREE MONTH anniversary of Mr. CfP's last haircut and my hair-cutting debut.
And, well, my worst nightmare didn't happen (or at least not THIS worst nightmare). Mr. CfP will not have to make a hair appointment in order to get his wife's mistakes fixed. There are probably MANY mistakes in his 'do, but none appear to be noticeable enough for the untrained eye to care about.
Too bad I didn't take any "Befores".
I think that I'll wait until I've cut his hair a couple of more times before I open up my own salon. You'll be invited to my Open House.