Lockdown Haircuts...

It may be that you are one of those organised people who, when Lockdown started to loom on the not-so distant horizon, organised hair cuts for everybody in their family.  

I am not that person.

Or, it may well be that you already owned - or placed an early order for delivery of - haircutting scissors and clippers, to do the job yourself.  Guess what? I'm not that person either.  

You may, instead, be someone who has an admirably relaxed attitude to the whole Lockdown Hair issue, and has shelved it until the world returns to some kind of normal.  What's a little long hair, after all?  But no, that's not me.

I am, instead, the person who didn't think about haircuts at all before Lockdown started, and then continued not to think about them for another couple of weeks after that.  Although the odd  'Boy #2's hair is looking quite interesting', thought crossed my mind there was so much to think about with home-school etc it took yet more time before I bit the bullet and tried to find now almost-impossible-to-get hairclippers online.  Throw in long delays to promised delivery dates, cancellations and reorders, and by the time they arrived the men in my life had begun to look 1970's throwbacks - or the hair-bear bunch.

Thank the lord, the hair clippers finally arrived on Friday.  

Boy #1 was first to the slaughter.  Except, it wasn't - a slaughter, that is.  I had decided that some prep would be a good idea and thanks to my bloggy mate Toni Hargis (aka Expat Mum), I found Nevsy Zee on YouTube.  I can recommend taking a look (not a promotion, I promise) since as a result I didn't make too much of a hash of Boy #1's hair when we tackled it yesterday.  Not saying that anyone should pay me for my efforts, mind you - he looks a little bouffant around the edges - but still.

Unfortunately that led to an excess of confidence - for me, Boy #1, and my next victim.  Our learnings from this experience are set out below, for the benefit of all...

• Whatever your husband and son say, it is not a good idea to give your 16 year old a set of hair clippers and let him 'have a go' on his father's head. (Actually, I suspect that you already knew that). 
• Once you wrest back control of the clippers to try and repair the damage, be aware that for some reason the less hair a person has, the more difficult it is to give them a presentable haircut.  (Just saying).
• Fun fact: if a person has greying temples and you cut their hair really short (perhaps as requested or perhaps - ahem - by mistake) then it looks like they have bald spots on that part of their head.
• Finally, it is important to always - ALWAYS - check the length setting on a set of clippers.  This will ensure that when you pick them up again after a fit of panicked hysterical laughter at the previously-mentioned looks-like-bald-spots, the setting is the same as it was before you put it down.  Otherwise you may end up using a shorter setting, and giving them actual bald spots where their hair is a different colour, where this misfortune shows up even more clearly.

You're welcome.

(Needless to say, Boy #2 has passed on the home haircut.  Smart boy).

For more posts on Lockdown living in the time of CoVid19, click here.

Lockdown conversations

It's amazing how attractive a trip to the local Sainsbury's becomes when the alternative is these four walls, isn't it?  Husband and I have taken to divvying up trips to the supermarket as a sort of illicit treat, now that it's our only way to get further from the house than the couple of circular miles we cover on dog walks

It's been great having him at home for such an extended period of time, but Husband's more frequent than usual assumption of Lockdown Hunter Gatherer duties has had some adverse effects.  Household snackage has gone up, mainly due to the fact that crisps and dips are being purchased at higher frequency than usual.  The cost of our shopping has increased (see previous note about snackage). The fridge was deemed to be ineffeciently filled, so has been 'reorganised'.  Not emptied out and cleaned, you understand; just reorganised (mainly to make space for beer). There have been suggestions made that the food in the storeage cupboard be itemised on a spreadsheet. (Be my guest, I said.  It hasn't happened yet, for some reason).  And a certain level of executive oversight on the contents of said fridge has been in evidence.

I give you Exhibit #1, m'lud.

Husband, standing in front the fridge, sighs disapprovingly: 'Look at this.'

Me:  'Look at what?'

Husband:  'These grapes.'

I look.  'They seem fine to me.'

He tuts.  'No.  Look there; the best before date.  It was yesterday.'

Me:  'Well, they are in the fridge, so... I'm not that bothered.'

Husband: 'But that's why they are at the front of the shelf - so we could see the date.  So that they could be taken out of the fridge and used.'

Me:  'Oh.  I see.  You're right, of course.  If only there was someone other than me who could open the fridge, check the date and take them out so they could be eaten.'


Reader, we left it there.