Funny Guy Friday... Shave and a haircut... two shekels?

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So... I married a funny guy...
     When I was a kid, my hairstyle was closely monitored by my father. He had pretty strict requirements for our hair. When we went to the barber shop, he alone told the barber how long my hair should be. I had no say in the matter. I could not wait to get old enough to go to the barber without the Hair Tyrant.
     That day finally came when I got my license. Dad still required regular trips to the barber, but at least I could drive myself... and I had the control. Or so I thought.
     Just a trim please... tapered in the back... and I would still like it to hang over my ears. 
     As I settled back in my chair grinning, I gave the last instruction: Just clean it up a bit, no big deal! I swear, if I could have cracked open a can of beer I would have... I was the man!
     So how is your dad?
     He's fine. He's cool... no problems with him. Is he here? 
     No, just asking.
     Okay... remember just a little trim. 
     No problem.  

     Twenty minutes later, I had a regular boys hair cut... well above the ears, and not the little trim that I ordered up.
     Hey, what's the big idea?
     Your dad would never let you leave here with the haircut you wanted... plus, he called before you came. 
     The Hair Nazi strikes again.
     I know what you are thinking. Why go to the same barber shop? Actually, as grown up as I was at sixteen, I never even knew there were more than one barber shop in Bowie.

     Today, I, like my father before me, monitor my boys' hair.
     They like it short, but they do have their specific styles. Matthew swears he has trained his hair to have a little swoop across the front. I don't have the heart to tell him he has a cowlick that is going to haunt him for the rest of his life. Noah likes it short on the sides, with a little spike in the front. He spends hours getting it juuuuust right. It's "kind of a big deal."
     We have our regular barber shop where two Korean gals take good care of us. One is named Sun and the other has a name I can never remember, so I just call her Moon. This particular shop is old school, just like the one my dad used to take us to. Sun and Moon see us about once a month, but we are not above trying other shops.
     This past Sunday was one of those days that we decided to change things up a bit, and we went to a new barber shop owned by a high school friend in Crofton.
     From the minute we stepped into the shop my boys were a bit surprised. It is kind of hip and modern, with pictures of iconic musicians, actors and cars. There was even a computer set up for customer use. My boys had confused looks on their faces and asked... Are you sure a friend of yours owns this place? 
     Yes, I am sure. Why?
     It seems like a place for young people.
     How old do you think that I am? 
     Pretty old, Dad.   
     Hmmm.
     We were seated pretty quickly, with three different "stylists" working on us.
     Noah was in the chair next to mine. His stylist commented about his beautiful eyes... hazel with touches of copper and green. Very cool looking eyes. This led my stylist to comment that Noah's eyes were just like mine... except that your eyes are all brown, she said. 
     Why yes... Noah's multi-colored eyes are just like my brown eyes... we both have two of them... we both see out of them... and we both blink... yeah, we both blink... a lot. 
     Two pretty girls talking about his beautiful eyes prompted Noah to flirt with himself in the mirror. He narrowed his eyes into a steely gaze. He opened them wide, and then he winked. Then... the coup de gras... he gave the smolder look. The girls ate that one up. In fact, one of them asked him to come back in about ten years so they could date.
     My stylist was very nice and struck up a conversation. In the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she grew up in Israel. When I heard that, I wanted to ask her if she spoke Israeli. That's right, I wanted to ask if she spoke Israeli. 
     Luckily, I caught myself and recognized that people from Israel do not speak Israeli. So I asked, Do you speak the language? The language... that covers it.
     I asked if she had been back there to visit. She advised that she indeed had, and that her favorite thing about Israel was the food.
     I mentioned that it would be fascinating to go to places that you've read about in the Bible. She agreed, and then mentioned that she visited the church where Jesus was buried.   
     I didn't say anything, but I may have raised my eyebrows. Then I worried that she would think I was trying to do that smolder thing that Noah was doing. Anyway, my reaction might have tipped her off that she may not have had the facts quite right... but she was sure that Jesus had had something to do with it. I can accept that. I am sure that He did have something to do with it.  
     At this point I noticed that Matthew was off on his own, several chairs away. His stylist was discussing "product" with him. There is no way Sun or Moon would ever discuss product with the boy. Whenever they cut his hair, the only product they ever discuss is the lollipop that they'll send him home with.
     All in all, we had a great haircut experience. And get this, after each of us received a great hair cut, we got an added bonus... a short vibrating massage. Watching Noah giggle the whole time the machine was on his back was worth the price of admission.
     When we got home, I did what I always do whenever we all get our hair cut... I asked Cheryl to pick her favorite one... and she's not allowed to say it's a tie. I never win this, but I keep trying.
     As I retold the story of our time at the new "hair salon," I told Grace and Cheryl that my girl told me that I will never go bald. I was very satisfied that a hair care professional had diagnosed that I will never go bald. 
     Matthew burst my bubble when he asked whether this was the same girl that visited the church where Jesus was buried.
     I am confident that my girl is correct about my hair. After all, she said it in plain English. I think she also said it in Israeli.