Dear Edward (can I call you Ed?),
Let me start off by saying that I’m a huge fan of your work: I have long admired your Robert Smith-like coif, your creative topiaries, and the clever way you can spear a single pea with your fingerblade.
I am writing because my son is in desperate need of a a haircut. In case you are not familiar with the concept, he is what you would call a “toddler,” so when the scissors or buzzers come within 40 feet, he instinctively begins to impersonate a highly-caffeinated worm. He wiggles to an extent that makes a haircut simultaneously impossible and terrifying.
My husband and I have cut his hair 2.5 times. We have avoided those kiddie hair cutting salons because we suspect the wiggling could escalate in an unfamiliar setting. Besides, we once heard that those places occasionally provide the friendly service of passing along head lice and we only needed to hear that once.
For our first attempt, our son was 10 months old. He seemed calmly curious about the process. He sat relatively still and appeared somewhat relaxed, as if the clippers were giving his head a much-needed massage, as if this was relieving all that built-up tension from crawling around and gnawing on rubber teething toys. I saved the clippings for the purpose of posterity, which is something that sentimental women like me tend to do.
The second time, at 18 months, he was FAR more aware of his surroundings and the weirdness of the situation: he kept turning his head to examine that intriguing buzzing noise. Once the clippers actually made contact with his head, he jerked around as if getting tickled. Since we are not barbers or hairdressers by trade, nor do we have hands made of scissors, you can imagine that we were more than a little challenged by this task.
The end result was slightly more extreme than intended. It was one part skate board punk rock and one part Professor Fink from the Simpsons (except of course much much cuter):
Note from the following photo that the line around his head was jagged as a jigsaw. He looked more like he’d been attacked by the clippers than trimmed by them. Note also that photo is blurry and not head-on because he was once again busy impersonating a worm, in this case playing an epic game of peek-a-boo with the help of a curtain:
The .5th time was last weekend, at 20 months. We methodically set up a cartoon featuring a group of anthropomorphic trains and handed him a snack with a sugar content much higher than usual. Unfortunately, once clippers were in hand, we realized they might not be fully charged. We decided to abandon the mission in case they pooped out half way through (as if that result would be any worse than if we could finish the haircut). Instead, I did a quick snip-snip with the baby fingernail scissors so he could actually see through his eyeballs and hear through his ears. While I did so, he swatted me away as if I was a pesky fly. Therefore, the rest of his hair remains long, hangs straight down all around his head and appears to be getting longer by the minute. He’s beginning to look as if he’s been the recipient of the dreaded “bowl cut.”
The point is that we are wondering if you have time in your busy schedule to take on this project? We predict that, with your proven dexterity and scissoring savvy plus the relatively small circumference of his head, it will take you about 7 seconds or less. And that kind of turnaround is exactly what we are on the market for. We think we can distract him for almost that long but we of course cannot guarantee it.
What’s in it for you? Perhaps whole plate full of peas? A gift certificate to a local tanning salon? A knife sharpener? Your choice – and of course, you are welcome to try something creative with his hair if you are looking to expand your portfolio.
Please get back to us at your earliest convenience as we are anxious to make stylistic changes immediately. We look forward to partnering with you on this.
The Home Tome