Monday, 13 September 2010

Hair today, where tomorrow

Life has a quirky sense of humour, and springs its surprises in odd ways. This one is about one of those days.

It’s chicken pox in the house and it ain’t a party. Though if hubby had his way he would make sure he spread the virus to all the kiddies we know so as to help them escape the agony of having it at 30. Since he can’t, he is making sure all our friends make good of his advise. So if you forgot to get the munchkin vaccinated, we offer immunization the old fashioned way at our house.

Those of you who have borne the ordeal of suffering this malaise post onset of puberty would empathise when I tell you that he has quite a few blisters on his head; for those who haven’t, let me tell you it is sheer torture, or so V tells me.

“Shave it off, I need to shave my hair off!” he wailed. Shaving would have been drastic and painful so we settled on a crew(ish) cut. So like a dutiful wife that I am, I set out to get him a trimmer as instructed.

Half-an-hour later, I reached ASDA, at one of the biggish outlets of the supermarket, the closest I can be to an establishment that dispenses hair trimmers (or so I say. Between you and me, I needed to get out of the house for a bit; which does not take away from my love and devotion to the husband since I ensured there was lunch aplenty and medicines sorted for him to have while I was gone. So don’t you dare judge me!).

Big supermarkets such as the one I was at, can be very daunting, with their endless aisles where you can lose your way and if you hate shopping, your mind. However, I love the latter and would have indulged. But I knew fully well if I were left to my own devices, the husband would have torn his hair out in frustration, an action induced by the painful blisters and the bill I would have produced.

So with blinkers on, I trudged to the customer service counter asking where I could find a hair trimmer,

I was very helpfully let to the aisle I desired. Confident that all I needed to do was pick the contraption up, I was, instead, faced with a sectionful of grooming devices. With prices ranging from £10 to £75, I was faced with the option to choose from trimmers ranging from 10 attachments to 20, 5-in-1 groomers to 17-in-1 grooming kits to pocket ones to gargantuan ones. We are talking hair trimmers here, mind you.

Coming from a family where men proudly wear their hair and revel in all its glory, the irony was not lost on me. I shook my head at the novelty of the situation and smiled. Never in my 29 years, before this day, I had thought I would be staring 10 different types hair trimmers, wondering which one to pick up for home-shearing purposes. This is not what “we” did.

Defeated by the sheer size of choices and the inability to decide if the 5-in-1 grooming kit was more suited to V's purpose or the 3-in-one multipurpose trimmer, I approached one of the store people. "Uh excuse me, are these suitable for shaving the head". Sheesh, no wonder he gave me a funny look! "Actually neither, those are for facial hair, this (picking up a different box altogether) is what you need."

Giving him a sheepish smile and a half-hearted attempt to cover up my ineptitude, I made my way to aisles where I knew my business.

Lugging it (and a few, ahem, essential purchaces) I legged it back home. Merrily handing the packet to him, I was all ready to take it easy when I was handed another surprise.

“Sweetie, please do this for me, I won’t be able to manage it on my own.”

If even ten years back you would have told me that one day I would be shaving man's head, I would have asked you to get your head examined. But like I said, life can be quirky.

From biwi to barber wasn’t a difficult transition but again the oddness of the situation struck. Wielding that thuddering contraption, I thought to myself that never in a million years would have I thought that I would be sitting here shearing my husband’s head. Felt odd.

Hair and I have a tenuous relationship. I was brought up to respect my hair. So obviously my shorn locks (it was barely a trim actually) in college created quite a furore in the household. It was my attempt at rebellion of sorts. Till date, I cringe when I see my hair being cropped. Felt the same about his today. But I confess that as I ran the razor/trimmer (pardon me, I am still new at the technique) over and around V’s bumpy head, I found the process quite fascinating.

The various comb (I think that’s what they are called) sizes and the precision they allow, the ease with which you could wield it, the room for experimentation it offered :D…. needless to say, I was pulled out of my philosophical mode quickly enough. But obviously not before leaving me with the desire to shear or sorry share my experience with you! But yeah, who would have thunk!

P.S: If you, like me, think the illustration is uber-cool, click here know more about the illustrator.

P.P.S: Hubby health update: On the road to recovery, should be A-OK very soon. Hubby says, please make sure your kids get it when young. XX


Latin Sardar said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
March Hare said...

u are too kind L.S.!

Shalini said...

awww..get well soon wishes for V..

Charu said...

hahhaa ... tell V will spread his message .. As for you, this post is hilarious indeed ;)

March Hare said...

Will tell him guys! Thanks CD!

Simran said...

Hey!! damn funny.. Hope Vinoo is better now! Got a hair cut my self, though its not as daring as a crew. look forward to more posts like this! :)

Niv said...

U are so droll, its like reading a story, simply love your blog, wish I had chanced upon it earlier!

March Hare said...

Hi Niv,
Welcome to the weird wild world of moi. Thank you for your kind words! and I am glad u enjoyed reading the blog. Hope to see more of you!