Unfiltered Story #361885

(I never got my hair cut very often when I was young. When I was about 8, my mom brings me for my first haircut ever, which to me is a huge deal, and I get it cut shoulder length. A couple months later I’m at a family reunion for my father’s side, hanging out with my cousins, and my hairstylist aunt comes up to me.

Aunt: “Hey, [my name], you want a haircut?”

Me: *confused* “O… kay?”

(She sits me on a stool in my Nana’s kitchen, does not ask me about what I want at all, and proceeds to give me a mushroom cut, which I do not care for one but, but am too polite to say so. I don’t remember what my mom’s reaction was upon seeing me, but I don’t think she gave the OK beforehand. But it’s just hair, it eventually grows out, no harm done. Fast forward a decade, I am at another family reunion and reminiscing with my cousins about funny moments.)

Me: “Oh man, do you remember that haircut [Aunt] gave me?

Cousin 1: “Remember it? I watched it happen!”

Me: “The second haircut of my entire life, and she did THAT to me!”

Cousin 2: “Yeah, Mom was pretty fond of that hairstyle back then…”

(At least we got a good laugh at it in the end…)