DAD AIN’T NO BARBER!

When I was about 11 or 12, I went too long without a haircut. It was a Saturday night, and Dad decided to take matters in his own hands! Since there was no barbershops opened at the after dinner hour, he got a towel, comb, and scissors, and told me to sit down. The kitchen chair sat openly in the room, as I did what I was told.

Tying the bath towel around my neck, he began to cut. The clipping seemed prolonged as he concentrated on only one area of my head, the back of the neck. When he discovered he wasn’t happy with his work, he got out my mother’s pasta pot, and placed it on my head, lid side down, covering my ears, and used it as a guide to cut a straight line. He told me to hold the pot, as he chopped away.

“But Dad, the barber NEVER uses a pot to cut my hair!”

“Be quiet and hold the pot steady. Oh geez! I SAID, hold the pot STEADY!”

Slowly my confidence in dear old dad was diminishing with each clip.

“Can I see what it looks like in the back?” I asked.

“NO, go to bed.” His retort sounded like he was pre-occupied.

But it’s only 8 o’clock!” I said.

“WE GOT TO GET UP EARLY TOMORROW.”

“YOU COMING TO CHURCH WITH US?” I asked surprised.

“Yea, sure.”

The next morning, Dad awakens me and says: “get dressed.”

In the car we go, just him and me, driving down Montauk highway, when lo and behold, (What does that really mean?) A barber is just leaving his shop on a Sunday Morning at 8:00 AM! I swear, I’m not making that up! Dad pulls into the strip mall and jumps out of the car. He has an exchange with the man, who shakes his head “No”, and dad pleads some more. Finally, the man reopens his shop and lets us in.

I was saved from dad’s handy work!

Please remember DD and all those that need our prayers.