A father-son story by Storyteller

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In my early teens, in the late 70's, in addition to being fashionable for boys to have long hair, my parents were going through a period of financial difficulties due to the country's economy.
This way, in addition to allowing me to wear long hair because of fashion, my parents also didn't insist that I go to the barbershop to get my hair cut because it was one less expense.

I was always a very obedient son and a polite and respectful young man with all adults.

At the time of this story my hair had grown to the longest it had ever been, it was medium brown, very straight and soft, it was past my shoulders, completely covered my ears, which were huge and protruding, and my bangs were past my nose, and I kept them combed to the side so as not to draw attention to how long they were.

I was careful with my hair, always keeping it neat and tidy. Although I was very fair-skinned, my face was quite tanned from the sun, but my scalp, after so many years of long hair, was completely pale.
During this time, it was the end of vacation and soon I would start studying at another school, in another neighborhood, where I didn't know any classmates. One day, my father came home with a package and said "look what I got from a coworker, this machine here is for cutting hair, they call it clippers, he told me that you don't even need to know how to cut hair to use it and he won't use it anymore and he gave it to me as a gift" he looked at me and said "you see how cool, son, then you can have your hair cut without having to spend money on a barber shop".

I was a little concerned that it would cut my hair too short because I had finally managed to get my hair long as was the fashion, and I wanted to start off at the new school looking like a boy who is in fashion. But I wouldn’t go against my father and said "oh, that’s cool, dad, but how will we do it? I won’t know how to use this thing, are you going to cut my hair?" and he said "Yes, it shouldn't be difficult, let's take advantage and try it now?" I, quite apprehensive, said, smiling a little nervously "ah, yes, of course, dad, if you think now is a good time"

My father immediately took the clippers and showed me "this is the machine, then there are these combs, which we attach here and define the size of the haircut, he told me that this one is very good because it has many sizes, up to 14, and he said that the higher the number the longer the hair is when cut" and I said "oh, cool, so let’s try 14, shall we?" trying to keep my dad from wanting something too short. "Yes, of course, son" my father said smiling.

We then went to the bathroom because we thought it would be the easiest place to clean and because there was a mirror to make it easier. My dad put a chair for me to sit on, and I was adjusting the clippers, and so that he wouldn't change his mind I already went placing attachment number 14. I then sat down, and my father improvised a sheet as a cape, putting it around me and closing it with a safety pin.

My dad plugged the clippers in and walked over in front of me and placed the clippers on my forehead, under my bangs. He said, "I think it's best to start here", I had no idea and said "yes, it must be, dad". He turned them on, and a loud noise took over the place, we were both kind of scared by the noise, my father then held my head firmly and started passing the clippers firmly from my forehead. I felt the vibration in my head and started to see hair fall out.

It was then that I heard a noise in the middle of the movement that my father was making, and I saw attachment number 14 fall out while my dad continued to run the clippers on top of my head and he said "Oops". I felt that the pressure of the machine on my head changed and I said, "what is it, dad?"

He turned off the Clippers, started to get really nervous and said "son, I think the attachment was not well positioned, it fell and..." and I said "and what dad?" and he said "... the cut was much shorter" and continued "and now there's nothing to do, I'm going to have to cut all your hair like this", he was shaking a lot and looked like he was going to start crying.

I couldn't see my dad sad, and I said "ah, it can't be any big problem, dad, don't worry, you can go on". He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Okay son". He then turned clippers back on and proceeded to run them over my head. I realized that now what was touching my head was metal and no longer the plastic attachment and that a lot of hair, a lot of it, was falling out.

I noticed that my father's way of controlling my head seemed to have changed, he seemed to not want to touch my head in the parts where he had already used the clippers. I noticed that he seemed to go over and over again, in a careful way, and it also seemed that he was gradually learning how to work with them.

When he started using them on the side he, after a few passes moving from the sideburns to the top, started to control my ear to pass the clippers around the ear. I could feel the air hitting my head. I noticed that he was still nervous and to try to calm him down I smiled and said, "you’re doing very well, dad" and he said, half babbling, "yes, son"

After working on the right side, he went to the left side and did the same thing he had done on the right side, first moving from the sideburns up and then controlling my ear and moving the clippers around.

He then said, "head down, son", I lowered it and he started passing the clippers from nape to the top, I saw large locks of hair fall in front of me. With a few more moves like that, he checked it out and said "you can lift your head, son" and then said, "I think it's ready" turning off the clippers.

He looked at me, I could see he was very nervous, he took a hand mirror and said "I think now you want to see how it looks, right?" and I said "yes, dad" and he said: "look, it is really short, ok?", I smiled and said "No problem, dad, anything you do for me, you know I like it".

He then, smiling a little embarrassed, lifted the mirror, placing it in front of me, in a way that I couldn't see his face. I then saw myself in the mirror, it was quite a shock when I saw that my hair was clippershaved.

My floppy ears seemed to pop, my insanely white scalp was all over the place. My reaction then was to take my hands to my head and touch it, again it was a shock, now because I felt my head.
My father, who had his face behind the mirror, then appeared and almost in tears said "so, son, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that to you, I know how much you liked your long hair". That made my heart sink, I didn't want my father to feel guilty, and then I also remembered that I was the one who put the attachment, badly placed, in the clippers. And I smiled and said to my dad "but, dad, don't worry, I like it" and ran my hand over my clippershaved head, smiling.

He opened a relieved smile and said, "did you really like it, son?" and I said "yes, dad, sure" so he wouldn't be sad, and I thought it would take a long time for my hair to grow back, but oh well. He rubbed my head with his hand and laughed and said, "it’s cool, isn’t it?" and I said "yes dad" smiling at him. He then said "well, it's pretty easy to cut like this, and if you like it, then let's cut it like this every week so the cut is maintained". When he said that I swallowed hard and thought ‘Why did I say that I liked it? Well, let's hope he forgets.’ My father then gave me a hug and told me "You are a wonderful son". And I returned the hug smiling. The two of us then, together, cleaned up the mess my hair caused on the bathroom floor.

During the days that followed, I had no contact with friends or former classmates because it was vacation, the last days of vacation, and I took the opportunity to, little by little, get some tan on my head, which with that got closer to the my face’s tan. I still thought the haircut was really bad and kept dreaming about my long hair, but I didn't say anything to my dad. Whenever he saw me he would compliment me and say I looked good and I would just smile and nod my head.

When it was a week after the haircut, the day before classes started at the new school, I already had some hair growth, that's when I saw my father in the bathroom with a chair and a sheet in his hand and he said "son, all ready for your weekly cut, to keep the cut you liked". I was surprised, kind of speechless. He said "Let's go. It’s good that now I have time". I ended up not knowing what to say and went to sit in the chair. My father put the sheet/cape around me, and he already had the clippers, without any attachment, in his hand, and plugged in. I looked at him and smiled, a little awkwardly.

He was already positioning the clippers on my forehead and said "look what I discovered, if I adjust this lever like this, I can change the size of the cut a little bit" and he started to pass them on my head and completed the phrase "so I adjusted it to be shorter, so the cut can last longer, since you liked it so short" and the clippers went through my head. I thought "Oh, no, shorter!" but said "Oh, that's cool, dad", a little awkwardly. He was cutting my hair, certainly much faster than the first time, I kept smiling and I was thinking of ways to tell my father little by little that it didn't have to be cut every week and that it didn't have to be this short.

When he finished he ran his hand over my whole head and showed me in the mirror "Look how cool, this is really short", I looked and saw that my hair was even shorter, really almost shaved, but I smiled and said to my father "yes, that's cool".

My dad said "You know, I mentioned to my friends at work 'my son likes his hair really short now', they said they want to see you now because they don't like that their kids have long hair" and I said "ah, Dad, that's cool." He said "I'm going to work as soon as we clean the bathroom, do you want to come with me?" and I said "Yes, Dad, I can go. Let me clean it up for you while you get ready for work." He stroked my head, gave me a hug and said "You are a wonderful son"

I cleaned everything up while my dad got ready to go to work. As it was very close to home, I could go with him and then walk back, alone, without a problem. So, I accompanied him to work. Arriving there, he placed me in front of him and said, "Look who I brought with me". One of his work buds immediately said, "who is this baldy?" smiling and then came to put his hand on my head, saying "it's very cool, son, I'll call you Baldy, from now on", my father looked at me smiling and laughed at his friend.

I was kind to all of his work buds and they all praised me and said I was a great son and they wanted their kids to look like me. After a few minutes I said "Well, dad, I'm going back home so I don't disturb you" and I said goodbye to his work buds "See you later, Sirs" and they said "Bye, Baldy", I smiled a bit awkwardly and went home.

The next day I was walking down the street and saw my father's work bud, walking along with his wife, he saw me and said "Good morning Baldy" and I said "Good morning, Sir" "Good morning, Ma’am", smiling.

Later in the afternoon I went to my first day at the new school. Since no one knew me, although everyone thought a boy with clippershaved hair was very different, no one made any surprise comments because they didn't know that I had very long hair before, and my head was already tanned so no one could even tell the difference.

When we entered the classroom, I was the last to enter and as I passed the teacher's desk I saw that the teacher was the wife of my father's work bud, and she saw me and said "Good afternoon, Baldy, my husband told me that you are a great boy and you like to be called that way", I was embarrassed, but I said "Good afternoon, ma'am, thank you, yes, that's true, I like it".
The class went on normally, I liked the school and the classmates. But everyone called me Baldy. There were so many calling me like that that I didn't even care anymore. When I got home, I said to my father "Look what a coincidence, my teacher, Mrs Stevens, is the wife of your co-worker". And my dad said "Oh, that's right, she's a teacher at that school" and he said, "and did you like school, son?" and I said, "Yes sir, I liked it very much".

Two days later, first thing in the morning, when I was passing by the bathroom, I saw my father with the chair and the sheet and I said "Hey, dad, but it hasn’t been a week since I cut my hair" and he said "I know, but my work bud commented to me that Mrs Stevens and all your classmates are calling you Baldy and that you were very happy, so I thought I could help you to always look like this by running the clippers over your head every morning " and immediately said "come on" and added smiling "now first thing in the morning it will always be 'Baldy time'". I sat down, he put on the sheet/cape and made the cut the same way he had done the previous time.

And so, the days went by, my classmates were very nice and everyone liked me, they called me Baldy and that wasn't any form of bullying. Mrs Stevens soon realized that I was an excellent student and treated me very well.

One morning, as I woke up I went to the bathroom and my dad wasn't there, he was in his room getting ready to go to work, and I said "Dad, isn't there going to be 'Baldy time' today?" My dad said, "oh son, I thought maybe you wanted to grow your hair back and you didn't have the heart to tell me". I hugged him and said, "you are the best dad in the world" and then I put my hand on my head and said "Dad, I don't want to disturb you in getting ready to go to work, but if you can, I would like to have my 'Baldy time'", and then we went to the bathroom for the clippers, and so life went on…

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