Worst. Haircut. Ever. All. Mommy's. Fault.

I went slumming this afternoon and bought Preston a $9.00 (including tax) bargain haircut. This is the second haircut of his life, and the worst.

His first haircut, as most of you know, was at a swanky, kid-friendly salon. Jeremy and I threw down nearly thirty bones for the perfect cut, a lock of hair, and picture. But it was a milestone, and our first kid...yada, yada, yada. We had to do it. You all know the drill.

Anyhow, I've driven by this "family hair care" joint many times, and decided to pop in to see if they had any openings. Upon walking in I knew I had made a mistake, but wasn't quick enough to think of an immediate exit plan. The place was half nail salon, half hair salon and everybody was Asian (except for P'Dub and I). Even the music playing was Asian.

I sit down on the chair and place P'Dub on my lap. The stylist - and I'm using this term loosely - covers Preston up with a cape, but not me. Weird. I tell her Preston needs a TRIM, and with my fingers show her how much...which was about 1/4" to 1/2". I tell her I like it longer, just want his hair tidied up.

The stylist didn't say anything and started trimming away. Hair is flying in every direction. She's going fast. Really fast. Clipping. Clipping. Clipping. And she didn't even water his hair down???!!!

Next thing I know she's got the ol' electric trimmer out. Holy Hell! I panic and can't say a word (just like the time I rubbed shoulders with Jasper Parnevick at The Memorial). She's trimming around his left ear and his right ear. Whew, it's over. Nope, not so fast...she's shaving his neck. His poor little baby neck!

Okay, now we're done. Breathe deep breaths. Preston seemed freakishly stunned, but who wasn't?

Before I could finish buckling Preston in his car seat, the stylist already had her coat on and waiting at the register. I paid her, nothing was said, and she walked out and sped off in her car before we even left the building.

Which by the way, on my way out, I noticed a large poster on the wall with pictures of twelve kids. All the kids had different, outdated hair cuts and were assigned a number. This was so that you could tell the stylist which hair cut you wanted. And no, I'm not even kidding.

You know the ol' saying, "What ya get is what ya pay for". Well, we got ourselves a $9.00 haircut alright. It's uneven. Choppy. His neckline is a mess. His neck is a mess. Some hair is cut, some isn't. It's like he has mange.

And we have two weeks until family pictures. Brilliant.