Tuesday, December 9, 2008


Alex is 18 years old. He somehow has gotten the impression that this magic age makes him an adult who can make his own decisions. This evening I reminded him that as long as he lives in our home he does NOT have free reign over everything in his life.

Take, for instance, his HAIR.

It is important to him to have long hair right now. Although I totally disagree, I'm giving him as much leeway as I possibly can without driving myself crazy. He got his hair cut in early July, a week and a half before his senior pictures were taken. Since then he's gotten it cut ONE TIME. Before he sat down to dinner tonight, I told him that he had to call the barber and make an appointment immediately. Ted backed me up on this. (He knows that if he chose NOT to back me on this one that there would be trouble, and I do indeed mean TROUBLE.)

Alex fussed a little bit, then called and made the appointment. After hanging up the phone, I told him to go get one of my headbands and put it on before he sat down at the table for dinner, because I was sick and tired of seeing his hair fall into his face each evening.

He went to our bedroom, then came back laughing. By this time Ted is laughing too, and they both think that Alex looks goofier than anything. I agree. He DID look goofy, but at least his hair wasn't going to be falling into his food, or any other food on the table and we'd be able to see his eyes!

During the course of dinner I mentioned that he will need to tell the barber that he will have to cut his hair so that he has about half of his ears showing afterwards. Alex practically threw a fit. That's when he mentioned that he is 18, and therefore an adult.

"So," I said to him, "if you're an adult and choose not to get your hair cut in a decent manner, then you can choose to pack up your things and move someplace where they will appreciate your hair. Oh yes, and by the way, you can WALK because your car is in your dad's name and legally his."

"But mom..."

"No 'but mom' on this one son."

Ted joined in now. "Alex, if you were smart you would just keep your mouth closed."

"But dad..."

"Alex. I'm telling you. Don't say anything else. You know how your mother is."

That in itself was enough to get me riled up, but I didn't say anything. It was obvious that Alex wanted to say something...anything, for that matter, but he finally realized that it would be in his best interest to say nothing at all.

I've been threatening to go in his room during the night and cut off a big hunk so he would have to get it cut. (No, I won't really do that, but you know how a mother can get sometimes.)

Of course he's mentioned quite a few times that his dad had long hair when he was a teenager. And we, being the responsible parents we are, merely told him that that was different. (It's not always a good idea to let your teenagers see picture of you during YOUR teenage years.)

I know that we could be having serious discussions about issues far worse than hair, and I am extremely thankful that this is the worst thing we're facing right now.

This picture was taken THREE weeks ago, and the young man NEEDS a haircut!


The Arthur Clan said...

It's so funny the things that bother us as moms. The long hair...that wouldn't bother me a bit. But there are many other things that I absolutely would have to put my foot down on because I can't stand it!

Your son sure is a cutie!

PERBS said...

Gosh, when reading the "story," I was imagining it shoulder length. He just looks like the Beatles. . . he almost looks like my Grandson who plays drums and has "long" hair.