I think it was Friday evening when my husband said he was going to go get his hair cut. In China, it's easy for a man to go run out down the street and find somebody with a chair out on the sidewalk snipping away on some dullard's hair. Jeremy usually comes back with a decent enough trim though I wish he'd go to a stylist sometimes because seriously, these people can never seem to even out his sideburns. But alas, my pleas for obtaining a normal haircut fall on deaf ears.
Thankfully, I've never been subjected to such heinous hair torture here. Quite the opposite.
Jeremy returned rather quickly. More quickly than usual when seeking out a random street haircut. That's because with Chinese New Year just about upon us, most street vendors have hauled ass back to where they came from. No one is really around (though traffic today would have you think otherwise). MIL was still at our house that evening (don't ask...she's like a bad rash that just won't quit) and apparently, she suggested to Jeremy that he let his father cut his hair.
You see where this is going, don't you? When he translated this to me, I about peed in my pants from laughter. Oh yes! Let your father cut your hair. This should be good. I looked over at MIL and I thought, My God. THAT is why her hair looks like that, isn't it? Now I kind of feel sorry for her. That poor woman has probably never once ever in her life had even a hint of a flattering haircut. I mean, just look at her!
Flowbee for crying out loud!
Now I know you all are just dying to see what Jeremy's hair looks like, aren't you? Well first, here's how he looked before he allowed his father to cut his hair...
What? You don't think it's so bad? Please, come see it from the side, won't you?