What mother thinks is best

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As a 15 year old boy with almost waist length Caramel blond hair you could imagine that my mother had nagged and nagged for years for me to get a real hair cut but she had never forced me to because my father in surprising fashion had accepted my long hair. I loved it was my pride and joy and so did the girls it was a rich caramel gold color and extremely thick thicker than the hair of most girls in my school but things were soon to change.
My father had left and not left in I’ll be back in a couple of days kinda of left but left for good kinda way. My mom was growing more and more frustrated in her day to day business she had just lost her job as a bank teller she was bound to explode but I paid it no mind I should have.
One night when I returned home from a study group I found my mom sitting on the counter in the kitchen the kitchen floor littered with news papers a lone chair among the mass of paper
“Sit down son” was the only thing she said
I couldn’t believe it she was going to forcefully cut my hair. I didn’t move to sit though it might have been stupid but I didn’t. “How about not Mom”
She looked at me her anger boiling to the surface quickly “boy if you know what’s good for ya you’ll sit you butt down in the chair” I thought about for a moment but remained defiant. “ suit yourself boy you wanted the hard way you’ll get it the hard way” she moved off the counter towards me. I might have been the younger of the two of us but my mom was the stronger of the two of us at her 5’10” tall and 187 pounds compared to my little 5’5” 122 pound self and she easily overpowered me and shoved me into the chair using one hand to hold me down she used the other to grab something off the counter .what it was I couldn’t see I squirmed trying to escape but quickly found something rapping around me I looked down to see silver duct tape in casing me to the chair I continued my struggle but it was useless I was bound trapped to the chair my fate sealed. My mother left the kitchen seemingly to retrieve who instruments of hair destruction she soon returned with a black box. She walked up behind me and shoved my back forward with one hand and with the other brought my hair out from were it was pinned between my back and the chair. It slapped against the back of the chair with a loud thunk. She walked back to the box and opened it and retrieved a pair of wireless wahl clippers inside the box were a number of attachments for the clippers. I could only hope that my fate would not be as bad as it could be maybe she would allow me to keep some length to my hair. She closed the box without retrieving an attachment she walked closer to me the wireless clippers in hand. “You brought this upon yourself” was what she said before turning the hair eating machine to life “ any last words for that long hair of yours because I’ll assure you it will never be this long again” tears were starting to form at the Corners of my eyes I tried to blink them away but they would not go. She placed the clippers in front of my hairline before plunging them forward through my thick caramel gold hair. The clippers changed tunes as it started making its way through my hair I could no longer hold the tears back and openly began weeping. She soon arrived to the back of my crown she used her free hand to catch the thick locks of hair she placed it on my lap seemingly to taunt me she place the clippers back at my hairline plunging them through the remainder of the hair on my crown with in a hand full of minutes the hair that had been well over two feet long had been reduced to stubble. She walked around in front of me a triumphant a smile of her face she took her phone out of her pocket and snapped a picture of the destruction. She smiled at the destruction she had caused the crown was now pale with dark stubble the sides and back had retained its length for the moment but the damage was done it would all have to come off now. She put her phone away before returning to her massacre she ran the clippers over the left side then the right and finally the back before turning them of. Were there was once shiny thick hair that was the envy of all girls was now a pale looking scalp and dark stubbles the thick hair littered the floor in seemingly endless pools of caramel gold. “Don’t think your done just yet boy there’s still more to come” she left to get something else I could only sit there in shock over the fate of my hair my pride and joy now covering the floor around me. My mother returned with razors a can of shaving cream and a black bottle of something else that I couldn’t see that well she place them down behind me before spraying shaving cream over my head and used a hand to spread it around evenly.she then picked up a razor and placed it at my hairline like she had down the clippers. the shaving of my head was fast my tears had continued to fall throughout the process with each scrape brought fresh tears to my face. My mother walked out in front of me a black bottle in one hand and her cell phone in the other she snapped another picture of the destruction she had caused “ no son of my is gonna have hippie hair” she laughed at her own cleverness before she turned serious she extend the black bottle towards him to where he could see the label it read NAIR permanent hair remover “ I consider lathing your head up with his bad boy and be rid of the problem of your precise hair for once and for all but where the fun in that I enjoyed today’s shaving so It will become a monthly thing. But since you were such a brat about getting your haircut today I think you deserve a good punishment so I think I’ll be moving your hairline up a good bit. She opened the jar before dipping her her left hand in it before smearing it were my hairline once was making sure to sure to rub it in well she had more or less permanently moved my hairline up an inch and a half so even when I did have hair my forehead would look extremely prominent. The first thing I noticed was that I smelt terrible the second was that it burned like hell I could only guess that that was my roots being completely destroyed. My tears had stopped the moment she had shown me the NAIR bottle for in fear of the worse. She grabbed a kitchen knife of the counter before cutting me loose and ordering me to clean up my mess (hair) off the floor.
Returning to school had been terrible as my shaving had occurred on a Friday giving me 2 day old stubble to show on Monday with my now forcefully receded hairline my forehead looked huge were girls would once flock to me I gush over how beautiful and jealous they were of my mane I was now there main source of laughter now. The teasing by the other boys over how big my forehead looked as soon becoming a constant. His mother had stripped him of his pride and glory.

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