How NOT to cut hair

Mike has sumthing 2 share w/U all. The good news is that it's from the present. The bad news is that it's this:

April,

Formerly little sis. Although it seems like my wife, the lovely Deanna, never has any hair grow on her and her perpetual bowl hair cut, the same cannot be said of my son. I know I had hoped that growing up, he would be like I used to be, with the receding hairline that caused me to bear more than a casual resemblance to that of my good friend Linus van Pelt. However, my son’s hair did not meet that expectation. It grew, and it grew enough so that my wife finally took him to a hair cutter.

I know that some people might say that over 3 years old, my son should have been going to haircutters regularly for some time; but those people do not understand the peculiarities of Patterson hair. When you think about it, April, how long has it been in your very own blog where you mentioned going to the hair salon for a hair cut or a change in your hair style? I am sure it has been months and months. Patterson hair just doesn’t grow that often or that quickly.

Deanna took my son to the Studio Salon next to the Video Store in the Milborough Mall. She had been forewarned that she might need to take a toy to distract him, while the haircutter did her business; but unfortunately no one told her that it was a good idea to give the toy to our son to distract him. As she told the story to me about her waving this toy around, while my son flailed about, it was pretty obvious what the flaw was. However, I restrained myself from mentioning it as Deanna recounted how a little storm cloud appeared above her head. Shortly thereafter, Deanna and my son left the salon doing the standard Patterson “wave goodbye while you are a few steps away from the doorway”. The haircutter stood at the store entrance and waved, which Deanna attributed to being “nice” and I attributed it to being the least busy haircutter (thus explaining her incompetence with my son).

Later that night, as my son lay sleeping, a mysterious creature approached my son in his slumbers. A creature armed with a pair of scissors. Yes, it was my lovely wife, Deanna, determined to give my son a haircut without him knowing. She had decided to rely on her knowledge that my son is not very light sleeper. She “CUT CUT CLIP CUT cut CUT” away at his hair on his left side with tiny two-fingered scissors. As my son briefly, “SNORK!”ed, she pulled away with caution, fear, and what appeared to me to be a deformed right hand. I have often noticed that of all the body parts of the Pattersons, which frequently appear to be deformed, the hands and fingers are usually the first to go.

Then as my son rolled over to his right side with a “MMFFF SNORK MMM SMACK SMACK, ZZZZ” sound, my lovely wife Deanna hid behind the protective gate on his bed; so that he wouldn’t see…I mean hear…That doesn’t work either. Could it be that she was trying to use the gate to block the air flow between her and my son, so that he wouldn’t catch her scent in the air?

She approached him again and “SNIP cut clip CUT CUT cut cut” on his right side. Deanna finished just before she went into a silhouette, which would have made seeing a little more difficult. My son reacted with a “SNORT UMPH SNZ”, and my wife hid behind the gate once again.

This next time, my son had moved so he was lying on his back with his face directly forward. I approached from behind in silhouette, as I heard the sound “CLIP, SNIP, CUT, CUT CLIP, CUT” and assumed from the sound and the fact I saw my wife with the scissors in her hand, these sounds came from her haircutting. However, looking more closely, I noticed Deanna was bent over. I began to suspect those sounds had come from some other source than haircutting. In other words, Deanna had been cutting something other than hair. Also, I noticed that Deanna was pointing her left hand fingers to my son as if she had him in some kind of magic spell.

She told me that at this point she thought “DONE!” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she had completely missed the back of my son’s head. However, my son, the sound sleeper, had slept through it all, including when Deanna said out loud, “READY!” to me. That was my signal to pick up my son so that Deanna could collect all the hair cuttings in his bedsheets and replace the bedsheets with new clean ones.

Even as I lay him back into his bed, all he managed was a “SNRK” to indicate he knew anything had happened to him. This bolstered my wife’s confidence, and she said to me, “Tomorrow night I’ll cut his toe-nails.” This left me with a gobsmacked look on my face. After all, she had not tried taking my son to a nail salon before suggesting this.

He’s only a few months older than 3 years. I am beginning to wonder if it’s too early to think about toenail-cutting for my son. He may be too young. After all, April, when is the last time you can remember having to cut your toenails?

Love,
Michael Patterson

Mike, it is v. cruel of U 2 ask abt when was the last time I changed my hairstyle. U know v. well abt my hair curse, which has been demostr8ed 2 U so even U had 2 admit it was true. No matter what I do w/my hair, it goes in2 the stupid bun I almost always have. Every once in a while, I get a v. brief reprieve, like when I got 2 wear my hair down 4 Gym Jam, or when I got 2 wear it down with just the front strands pulled back, on the day Liz called me "picky face." As 4 my toenails, I have 2 trim them all the time. I just down blog abt that, cuz it's a v. boring topic.

Dee needs 2 get Robin used 2 having his hair cut and toenails trimmed when he's awake. I remember from babysitting Paul and Rosemary Mayes that they resisted this stuff @ 1st but they got used 2 it. Cuz Tracey didn't resort 2 handling it all when they were sleeping!

Apes

Edit: Mom just informed me that, for some reason, we have an alternate story to discuss 2day. She sez ppl haven't seen or heard abt the pets in so long they R starting 2 spread rumours that she tossed them in2 the basement 4 the entire winter. NEway, yesterday, Eddie went outside 2 dig up bones and composted garbage. When Mom was "SCRAPE, SCRAPE, GLOPP, SPLTT-ing" dog food in2 Eddie's bowl, I joked that she needn't feed him cuz he'd decided 2 eat out. Get it? "Out?" Yeah, I know, that was totally unfunny and I need 2 get out more. Plus I was having a "fugly" day, w/my hair titely bunned in that propeller 'do and me wearing a pink top and purple pants Mom picked up @ the mall on clearance and insisted I "try" cuz otherwise she wasted $5.99.

Second Edit: Mom sez she goofed and we R prolly gonna B discussing this doggie story again two wks from now. Sorry abt that. Mom may or may not have stopped feeding Dixie.