The Man-Bag – The Military Family

This sends me into fits of hysterics every time I think about it.

It all started out with a dad-and-son trip to Sports Clips. You see, I am frugal. We do our best to save around here where we can, when we can. This way I can enjoy some of the ‘finer things in life’ with less guilt. (Like fulfilling my need to close the kitchen and eat out once in awhile.) As my eight-year old starts to care more and more about ‘style’ my handy-dandy clippers are failing him. (I’m sure it has everything to do with the clippers and nothing to do with my ability. Just saying.) I have tried to use scissors. I have tried clippers and a comb. None of it satisfied my *E*’s desire to sport a Justin Bieber look… despite *E’s* apparent disdain for JB. Oh to be eight…

So Sunday afternoon *E* and Dad visited our local Sports Clips. It just sounded like a good place for him to get his first real hair cut:

“SportClips is where men go to get their haircuts when they are looking for a good time in a relaxed sport themed experience.”
All he wanted was a simple haircut… but what he got (complimentary bonus as a very first time customer, I might add), “was Shampoo with invigorating scalp massage; Legendary Hot Steamed Towel ; Leave-in Conditioner; and a Relaxing Neck and Shoulder Massage” (and I had to look all that up to make sure I got this manly-manly treatment right…)
Oh I wish I could convey in words his enthusiasm over that Hot Steamed Towel when he got home. A bit orgasmic I’d say. And the shampoo, “Mom, it TINGLED!” And the neck-rub… as he rolls his eyes into his head… the neck-rub was to die for, apparently.
Right there I knew I was in trouble.

Later that evening he comes down the stairs with a bag in his hands. “Mom, it is my ‘Man-Bag’.”