Aug 15 2008

Not the Best Way to Spike Your Hair

Published by gchastain at 10:27 pm under Andy

So, ArayMonkey is sporting a new hairdo.  A nice and short buzz cut all the way around.  Of course he wasn’t to pleased about getting this haircut, but then we hope he’s learned his lesson.  It all goes something like this . . .

Yesterday, Andy’s friend Hannah was over, and the two were doing like they normally do.  Both are pretty active, loud kids, and they both have the “wonderful” quality of seeking to do whatever they set their minds to.  Most of the time this is very constructive – they make forts, they scale fences, they jump and somersault their way around the living room, they race bikes and imagine great stories to play out.  Every now and again though things go awry.

So there they were playing in the living room, and I head down to the garage and out front to talk to a friend.  I was gone for no more than five minutes.  Upon returning, these two are scurrying out of the master bathroom like cockroaches in a room where the lights have just been turned on.  I ask, “What’s going on?”  Andy replies, “I wanted to spike my hair.”  I think – no harm, he does this every now and again, obsessing about his hair like some teenage boy.  I figure he had been applying Karen’s gel or moose, and happily instruct them to stay out of the master bedroom.  Mind you, I should have looked a little more closely at my son, but needed to head back outside to give my friend something.

Here’s where it gets good . . . Friend leaves, and I return inside where I soon learn from Karen that Andy and Hannah in their attempt to spike Andy’s hair had pulled out the electric trimmer I use to trim my goatee, and blazed a nice inch wide swath across the top of Andy’s head.  A blonde clearcut – a landing strip if you will.  I probably shouldn’t have laughed so hard, but I couldn’t help it.  Even now a day later, I chuckle.  Of course the laughter made Andy a little self conscious and he was adamant that he didn’t need his haircut.  He worried that people would laugh at him, and I tried to explain that he’d already given them enough ammo, but ultimately encouraged him with the truth that people love him more for what’s on the inside than what’s on the outside.

Besides – I assured him the comb over he was pushing for wouldn’t work.

9 responses so far

9 Responses to “Not the Best Way to Spike Your Hair”

  1. Christina says:

    HEY! How the heck are you guys?
    Sounds like Andy’s just the little character, eh?

    I’d love to see some pictures….

    I put my blog page up there, but it’s set to only allow other Xanga users access, but I’m also on myspace and facebook. (feel free to set up a xanga account and look…it’s free)

    Can you believe that our little boys are starting 1st grade in a few weeks? Seems like we were all just in that birthing class thingy.

    Drew is 3.5 and just a little spitfire. Wish I could harness that energy of his.

    Tell Karen hi for me.

    ~Christina Armstrong

  2. Amy says:

    That is just too funny . . . i’d love to see a picture :-)
    hope all is well with the three of you!!

  3. gchastain says:

    We’ll try to get a picture, but he’s been a little self conscious of “Andrew’s Air Field”. Good to hear from you Christina.

  4. Amy says:

    what about me?? isn’t it good to hear from me :-)

  5. gchastain says:

    Amy, that it is good to hear from you too . . . simply goes without saying.

  6. Adam says:

    Did you get a picture of “the landing strip” before he got the haircut? If so I would love to see the before and after photos too.

  7. gchastain says:

    There will be no pictures. He’s already pretty embarrassed by the whole thing.

  8. DiAnne says:

    darn, to bad, no pictures…it really gave us a really good laugh..we really need pictures, maybe you could convince him how talented he is with the trimmer..tell “buzz” we love him!

  9. patty hanway says:

    Well Andrew Nana and Uncle John did something almost the same as you when we were little. We went out in the yard and used yard shears on each others hair. I think
    our style was called the Shag. We looked scary.

    Love,
    Nana

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