I Could Do That

This is the true mark of nobility. The unshakable belief that they can do anything: tan leather, shoe a horse, spin pottery, plow a field…if they really wanted to.

-          The Wise Man’s Fear by Patrick Rothfuss

I must have been some kind of noble in a past life. Except for any activity involving actual athletic ability, I look at all these tasks that require skill and training and I think, “I could totally do that.”

It certainly doesn’t help my delusions of grandeur that an alarming amount of the time I totally can. I watched a cooking show on TV way back in high school. That looks good, I thought, bet I could make it. So I did. And my cinnamon scones are some of the best around.

Several years ago, while we were setting up for youth group and listening to the youth pastor practicing his guitar for the worship set, my sister and I bemoaned the lack of a band to play with him. It wasn’t that the church lacked instruments; we just didn’t have anyone willing and able to play on Wednesday nights. I leaned over to my sister and whispered, “Twenty bucks says I can learn the drums in five minutes or less.” It actually took the pastor a little bit longer than five minutes to teach me. But two weeks later, I was playing drums for the teenagers.

I see needs and I want to fill them. Perhaps you are thinking that scones are not a necessity but that is obviously nonsense. Baked goods are always a good idea.

Last summer, knowing that we were going to have a baby boy and hoping to acquire a teenage boy as well, I calculated for my husband how much it would cost for three haircuts every six weeks. As a man used to getting his head coiffured in Nicaragua for 30 Cordoba (around $1.50) a piece, he balked at the outrageous amount it would cost just for cheap haircuts. For a tenth the price, I told him, I could buy a kit and do it all myself! He looked at me dubiously but I knew I had him.

For some time I had gotten it into my wacky little brain that I could cut hair. It looked pretty easy when the trained professional did it. How hard could it possibly be? Eli resisted this idea on the (rational) basis that he didn’t want to look like an idiot. He had some previous experience with his dad cutting his hair as a child. His soul still bears the scars of going to school with bad hair.

I breezed past his concerns with a confidence based on my own special blend of crazy. This will be fun!

It was not fun.

The first time I got near him with the machine he freaked the crap out.

“Don’t cut too much! Concentrate! Make sure it’s even! GOOD GOD FOCUS!”

“Um…I haven’t even turned it on yet.”

“DON’T CUT OFF TOO MUCH!!!”

Suddenly really nervous and aware that I did not, in fact, have any idea what I was doing, I gave him a pretty bad haircut. He ended up with straight up biscuit head you guys. Noooooo. In trying not to cut off too much, I didn’t cut off enough. I had a pretty good idea how to fix it but it took him several days of hat-wearing before he’d let me try again.

The second wack at his hairs proved far more successful. It wasn’t perfect but it looked much more like what I had pictured in my mind.

I get better every time too. Last night was another Haircut Night. Gabriel told me he didn’t want his usual style – he wanted Prince Royce hair. Uh, sure. Why not? He showed me a picture on his iPad and I gave it a whirl. Eli helped me out with the sideburn part since I don’t do razors. Gabriel was sufficiently pleased with how it turned out.

See? This was a great idea! Everyone has decent hair, it’s super cheap and I get to learn a fun new skill. Everybody wins!

I wonder if this is why the baby refuses to grow any hair…