The title of this post drew you in, didn’t it? You are wondering how this situation could possibly be? Because guys don’t have bad hair days, right? Sure there are days when their simple, cropped hair may be compromised by a cowlick or major hat head. But face it — the state of their hair usually doesn’t ruin their day. We women will be the first to admit that a bad hair day is less about the hair itself and more about the “feelings” about the hair. If you accept that theorem as truth, then guys don’t have bad hair days be cause they don’t feel…..bad…. about their hair. Which brings us back to the original question…Q: When does a guy have a bad hair day? A: When his wife has one.
Actually, it has been a series of Bad Hair Days by Association (BHDBA) for poor Dave. It began with a familiar conversation on Sunday evening as we were lying in bed, on the verge of sleep. My selection of this particular moment to engage my husband was admittedly lacking in forethought.Me: I’m getting my hair cut and colored tomorrow. I was thinking of going darker. What do you think? Dave: Mrpmph. Cough. What? Me: My hair! Cut! Colored! Thoughts? Dave: I don’t know. Just ask the girl what she thinks.
Ah…. this is Dave’s favorite cop out response to a question I have been asking for years. He does the exact same thing when we are ordering at a restaurant, asking the waiter which dish he should try or how the chef would prepare something. It gets him out of having an opinion. Yet, when it comes to my hair, the stakes are like a million times higher than a disappointing meal choice. So I go in one more time.Me: Ok – but do YOU have any opinion whatsoever? Lighter? Darker? Shorter? Longer? Dave: ZZZZZZZZZZZ
I was apparently on my own.
Fast forward to the next day when I do indeed “ask the girl what she thinks” – and she tells me. And I go with it, leaving the salon with my hair about 10 shades darker than when I entered. I spend the rest of the afternoon feeling like Morticia, but hoping that it is something I just need to get used to. I wait anxiously to see what Dave thinks.
So at 5:00 p.m. he rushes into my office.Dave: Hey! Me: Hey! (I smile and toss my head ever so slightly) Dave: Alright, where do these guys have to be? Do you want me to take them to band practice? Me: Yeah – that would be good – they are ready to go. (I tilt my head, letting my new dark brunette locks fall across my face.) Dave: Ok – let me go change. Me: Ohhhhhhhhhhh Kay.
He turns to go and gets about two steps out the door before I shoot him square in the back with the first of many bullets that are now loaded into my 2011Woman Scorned Emotional Machine Gun.Me: Ahem. Did you EVEN NOTICE my hair????
His face falls as he realizes there is absolutely no way out of the hole in which he is now standing. In the past, he might have tried with: “Oh yeah, sorry I was just rushing. I really like it!” But after 17 years of marriage, he knows. He knows that anything he says for the rest of the evening will be held against him. A compliment is now contrived. A criticism is worthy of a trial separation. Even his silence will be held against him. So he bows his head and retreats. Given the circumstances, it was a wise move. Later that evening, he bought me dinner but has still remained silent on the hair. I’m still not sure if it is because he is scared to talk about it – or he really doesn’t like it.
Hon – if you’re reading this, blink once for “likey” and twice for “no likey.”
And for the rest of you husbands, boyfriends, and partners—a gentle word to the wise. Save yourself from Bad Hair Days by Associatoin. To us girls, hair cuts are like birthdays and you should treat them as such. Before they happen, engage us in deep conversation about what we want, offer suggestions, and look as if you really want to come to the right conclusion. And on the day the hair cut occurs, don’t forget. Mark these appointments in your calendar so the first thing you say upon seeing your lovely, albeit slightly insecure loved one is: Your hair looks great!
Because there really is enough misery in this world. We only have room for one bad hair day at a time.