Your Class of 2015

Podrostok graduated from high school today. His graduating class was huge (around 650 kids) but the ceremony was really quite nice. They managed to get all those kids across the stage and have the band and choir do their things and let all the usual suspects say a few words in under 150 minutes. Someone should put the school administration team in charge of the Academy Awards. My lone complaint is that they mispronounced my poor baby’s name when it was finally his turn to walk across the stage. Probably other names were mangled as well, given that the other 649 kids come from all over the world, but his was the only one that got conspicuously butchered.

Podrostok and Mouse and I all got haircuts Friday night. They look awesome. I look like the kind of person who calls the cops to complain about skateboarders.

 

Almost Cut My Hair, Part 2

I did, actually. Got a haircut this weekend. Took Mouse and TeenBot with me and they got haircuts too.  Mouse and I emerged looking Straight Outta Stepford. That part was fine. TeenBot, on the other hand, experienced a haircut fail and insisted on buying haircut clippers on the way home. When we got home, Dino Spouse took charge of the clippers and shaved TeenBot’s head. This inspired him to try shaving his own head. (At this point I should explain that father and son both sport buzz cuts most of the time anyway, TeenBot as a style choice and Dino Spouse as a tasteful response to Soviet Male Pattern Baldness.) Alas, Dino Spouse realized quickly that he could not see the back of his own head and called for help. The last time I cut Dino Spouse’s hair was almost 18 years ago. It did not end well, largely because I used scissors and created a large bald patch where nature had not intended one.  This time went much better, fortunately for all.

The true hair horror came this morning, when I caught sight of myself in the mirror at the doctor’s office and saw … whiskers. Yes, the end of hormone replacement therapy turns out to mean more than just random hot flashes. I took my mustachioed self straight to the nearest waxing emporium and had it torn away. Yikes! That hurts waaaaay more than eyebrow waxing. Time to start researching electrolysis!