At the Hein-Maletsatsi residence… we LOVE to laugh. Fortunately for us, we don’t take ourselves too seriously… which means there are so very many reasons for laughter… daily. It’s a great medicine and the heartbeat of our home.

Hair. Now that’s a more serious topic. Especially in a space where it has been used to degrade and differentiate – where ‘neat’ and ‘presentable’ and ‘appropriate for school’ have for a long time meant one type of hair to the exclusion of others.

But if I am honest with you… hair is also the bane of my existence. Not because I don’t care… because I do… and there are just SO MANY people’s hair to cut and care for. And there’s just so little time. AND it keeps growing and getting dirty. So it’s a thing.

It goes without saying that our family is multiracial.. which means, amongst so many different things, that we have different hair types to manage. Not two. Not three. A whole range. Different products. Different tools. Different techniques. Different barbers. Different opinions (theirs, loudly, from the chair). One head needs a quick trim and it’s done. Another needs a wash day that eats an entire afternoon. Another needs detangling, patience, conditioner, more patience, and a bribe.

And this mamma believes so deeply that every single one of those heads deserves to be done properly and with care and dignity. With knowledge. With someone who actually knows what they’re doing.

So we’ve become experts in capitalising on every available minute…

If someone is already going to the barber, someone else is going with them… we’re talking maximising on economies of scale, always.

We ain’t anything is we’re not an efficient, well oiled machine.
Stick with me here… this get’s interesting.

So it’s a random weekday. Granny is heading into town and says she can take some of the boys to trim their hair at their usual barber. Awesome! Thank you! So off she sets with two of our younger boys who usually frequent this specific barber, and a fomo addition who tags along just for the outing. Just for the company. Innocent.

My phone rings, and Granny asks whether I would like spare wheel’s hair cut while she’s there. “I don’t think he does that type of hair” I reply to it. But she retorts with “I’ve asked, and he’s willing to give it a try”. Even though it’s not the hair type he normally cuts.
Give it a try.
In hindsight, I should have seen warning right then. The flashing red light. But all I heard was: one less head of hair to cut this week.
And so I quickly typed back: “Thanks, go for it. What could go wrong.”

I mean what could possibly go wrong? Everything.
Everything is the answer.

Put your coffee down before you see the result.
Because this is, undoubtedly, the worst haircut in history.
There is not one haircut in the history of haircuts that will ever surpass the badness of this haircut. In fact I am near certain I could have handed the scissors to another child and have had a less spectacularly horrific result.

It is so incredibly bad that it’s good.
It made me laugh so hard I could hardly breathe.
Proper, wheezing, tears-down-the-face, have-to-sit-down laughter.
Hair grows. The owner had a good laugh with us and we headed somewhere to fix it up. But I was sad. I loved the horror hair, it was art.
Going forward, “give it a try” is not a risk we’ll take on hair. And we’ve sadly conceded that our family cannot visit a single salon. #thatslife

But we will be telling this story for years and this photo will no doubt take pride of place at his 21st. And maybe his wedding too

Your support helps us keep laughing… and keeps hair in check… please donate to help us ensure that we don’t repeat this type of disaster again!