When my oldest son was looking for summer internships as a senior in high school I thought a lot about pockets of competence-- the things kids can do easily, the things that stymie them. I was home during one of his Skype interviews and I was so impressed with his professional persona: they were asking him questions that I found totally baffling, and he was answering promptly and persuasively. I had no idea where he'd learned to negotiate salary like that (we've established that negotiation is not my strong suit). He was presenting himself convincingly as a grownup. I was so proud of the way he was learning to navigate the real world. There was, however, a small voice in my head saying, "You'd think he could also manage to pick up a wet towel from the bedroom floor."
I do almost all of the haircuts around here. Elwood goes to the barber (I cut his hair exactly one time), and anyone who asks can go get a professional cut, but it's usually easier and more convenient for me to pull out the clippers before bed one night. My high school boys are heading back tomorrow, and they needed haircuts for dress code compliance. I didn't realize that one of them had never had a professional cut in his entire life.
This is a boy who would manage himself just fine, I feel certain, if I plunked him down in the middle of Montreal with $10 in his pocket. But he was talking about a barbershop as if it were alien terrain. "How specific should you be about what you want?" he asked. "Are all clipper sizes the same?" He thought for a minute. "Do you pay before or after?" I have a mental list of things they should all learn before they leave home: how to swim and tie their shoes and write a thank-you note and figure out a bus schedule and parallel park and clean up after themselves. I never realized that barbershop behavior needed to be on the list.
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