Go Up, Thou Bald Head

I got a call on the way home from work last week (Monday?) from my neighbor/friend Matt, who said that a few of the Elders were getting together and shaving their heads. One of our co-Elders is being treated for lymphoma and the whole presidency was doing the shave-for-support thing. Matt invited me to join them that night, but this is one of those decisions I decided not to make right before we had our family pictures.

I have always wanted to shave my head. Every time Alison goes out of town I decide I am going to finally do it, but there is always a wedding or pictures or something coming up. The closest I have come is shaving off my beard. This time, I thought, I have peer pressure to back me up. So, I consulted with my better half (who always says "it's your hair and you can do what you want with it," which we know means "I don't approve but don't have a reason to say no"), who said that I needed to wait until after family pictures last Saturday.

Well, last Saturday while Alison was at the RS broadcast the boys and I were at mom & dad Johnsen's house. We dug a mud hole (which the boys enjoyed way less than I had anticipated), cleaned up and had dinner. Then, the boys helped me cut all my hair off with the electric clippers. They were very willing to participate, if not fully competent, and of course I got my turn and then my mom touched it up for me.

It's a very odd sensation, having no hair. You can feel all the little air currents around you much more keenly, and your head gets cold a lot easier. Every time I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror my initial reaction is "hey, an old bearded man" before I realize it's me. I didn't shave down to a van dyke due to my mom's view (which I can't refute) that it will make me look like Mark Hacking, so my beard just sort of ends up by my ears. I used my electric shaver on my head later that night and I think it looks just fine. I won't keep it forever (probably), but as long as my friends are still falling off that cliff I won't pull the parachute cord just yet. I may even shave my head at the beginning of summer. I'm not sure. It's too early to tell. I really like my hair, you see.

So, now we get to the problem with this situation. On Sunday Isaac told us he thought he should also have a shaved head. Of course, I said "ask mom." Alison couldn't find a good reason to say no. I know we have the supposed parental prerogative to veto any decision our kids want to make at this age, but I like to give good reasons for denying them. We tried to persuade him that it wouldn't be that great an idea, but he insisted. So, off came his hair.

It was immediately apparent that this was not the best idea that was ever had. First of all, he looked like he belonged in a hospital, with all the uncomfortable associations that brought. The other major problem was revealed this morning when I was dropping him off for preschool before I went to school.

Isaac normally raves about how much he likes preschool, but today he was telling me he didn't want to go because "it is boring because we sit down for so long." When we got there he wouldn't even go downstairs by himself, then he wouldn't go into the room. I pulled out my therapeutic listening hat and asked him if there was something else that was wrong. Did something happen Monday at preschool that made you feel sad? After a little gentle prodding he told me that some of the other kids had made fun of him on Monday.

How do you deal with this as a parent of a young child? I was experiencing a stew of emotions, and not the good kind. It was more like a disgusting cold zucchini soup of emotions. I knew I shouldn't run in there and demand that all the other kids be nice, but I felt like it. I felt terrible because I know he only shaved his head because I had, and his emulation of his dad had led to bad social consequences. I felt like I was to blame, because I should have known it would happen and acted to prevent it. I felt awful because, by gum, he's too young to have this kind of thing happen to him (aren't lame-o mean kids supposed to show up when you're in late grade school or something?). He's supposed to be happy and carefree in a bubble-gum world. I'm not ready for him to hurt like this. I also want to magically grant him the confidence of knowing that it doesn't matter what the world thinks of him, but I know that's knowledge gained over time. In the meantime, I say bring on the she-bears.

The only thing I could come up with (since his hair is not going to magically reappear) was to ask if he would like to have a special preschool hat to wear to cover his head. He said yes. Teacher Natalie got him a Batman hat to wear today (he seemed cheered by the idea that he would be the only kid in class with a special hat on), and he consented to be led into the room at last.

This whole action-consequence thing can be a bummer sometimes.

On the other hand, I've gotten quite a few compliments, which either reflects a generally high level of handsomeness on my part (likely) or a high level of tact on the part of others (much, much less likely....right?).

P.S. Yes, I know pictures would have been helpful here, but I'm at school. So, buzz off. If you're a bee. And you can read. If not, walk off. If you have legs (or can walk on your hands). I guess if you're swimming off, you must have one heck of a fancy underwater computer, so congratulations. If I were an animal, I would be a dolphin. That way I'd have an awesome underwater computer too, and you could friend me on facebook, and we'd share some awesome aquatic inside jokes on our status updates and other people would be like, "huh? what was that about barnacles?" Yeah. I'm cool.