Mother in hospital by reál

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I grew up without my father only with my mother and 2 years younger brother. At this time, modern long hair in boys was minimal to cover the ears. Even at the age of 9, I managed to convince my mother to have longer hair and started to lead us with my brother into a modern barbershop, and the hair was gradually getting longer. In 1972 when I was 13 years old all my classmates had modern hairstyles, only the best classmate Gorge had a short haircut because his father was a soldier and always went to an old fashioned barbershop.
One Sunday my grandfather, whom I had not seen for years, came to us because he was about 300 miles from us and that he would take care of me and my brother for a few days because my mother was going to the hospital the next day. Already on Sunday evening he and my brother warned me that he did not like the way we dressed and was not happy with the hairstyle.
At school, I mentioned all this to Gorgea, and he just laughed. After all, grandpa will leave in a few days as you worry about your hair. You know, I and my father have to go every 3-4 takes to Daxon barbershop. I'm waiting for the day to come from work and say, dress up, we're going to Daxon, and there's no discussion.
After returning from school, his grandfather talked about how he spent the day walking in our town, what shops he visited and what he saw nicely. In conclusion, he added that he found a suitable barber shop for us and that in about an hour all three of us will go there already agreed. I disagreed that my mother would take us to our barber after returning from the hospital, but my grandfather warned me if I didn't stop, I would take my leather belt and get it on my ass.
Finally, we all went to the barbershop. After about half an hour of walking, I saw an ancient barber shop in the distance. As we approached I saw the name DAXON. I hope this is not the destination of our journey. But I finally said. I hope we don't go to Daxon? What an old father smiled and said, but yes, there is a very nice barber. No, I don't want to go there, I disagreed, and my brother joined. But we were really angry with his grandfather and said he would beat us both on the street.
The barbershop was empty, only an older gray barber was sitting in and reading a newspaper. They greeted their grandfathers as if they were long-time friends. Grandpa grabbed my shoulder and pushed me into the barber's chair. When he wrapped me in a sheet and combed my hair, he asked: how will it be today? I went to tell him to just cut the hair ends, but the barber's gaze was directed with the old father and he decided: Tall and firm hips and back # 0000 and on top # 2. I didn't understand what they were talking about. Then the barber put my head forward and put electric clippers on my neck under my hair. Their cold metal teeth smelled at their throats. As they sounded, they climbed the back of my head, and I saw the first long hair on my sail. I got panic and didn't know what was going on, what long hair was left on my head. The only thing I saw was the rising hair on the sail. Finally, he tilted my head to the left, and I saw my brother looking at me with his mouth open in the mirror. The barber began cutting on the right side. Then I saw the scalp and saw how high it was. By the time I remembered what was happening, I was already hairless on the left side of my head. Then the barber changed scissors and tilted my head back so that I could only see the ceiling of the room. Then someone entered the barber shop and a barber with scissors was running at the top of my head. In small adjustments the barber on my ears and neck applied white foam and scratched carefully.
When I was released from my chair, I saw my classmate Gorg and his father sitting on the waiting chair. I greeted them both. Then Gorg smiled and said. Is that you Jax? I didn't even know you. Sit down next to me and welcome to the club. In what club, I puzzled. But our nice military hairstyle as I wear. Then I walked down the back of my head and felt only the fine sandpaper. Then I asked what the old father and the barber said: High and firm hips and back # 0000 and at the top # 2.No it's basically a military hairstyle, explains Gorg: # 0000, it means the knife blade is # 0000 and cuts hair at 1/100 inch and # 2 is a blade of knives, giving you a barber cut the top of your head and hair there is about 1/4 inch. It's a little shorter than I'm cut. For me it is: # 0, it cuts the hair to 1/25 inch and # 3,75 is the blade of the knives, so the barber cut the top of your head and the hair there is about 1/2 inch. I look toward the barber and see how the barber is applying cream on his brother's head. I realize that I look the same. My brother also went to cut my old father and I was looking closely at my brother's super short hairstyle.
Before we all left the barbershop, Gorg was already sitting in the barber's chair. His father said aloud to the barber, give him a haircut today as the boys look good

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