My sister has cut my hair for years. My sister moved to the East Coast last year. See where I'm going with this?
I got crazy, one pregnant, Summer, day last year and cut it myself. I know, crazy right? It sure looked crazy. Anyway, it was time for another trim and I was BOUND AND DETERMINED that my husband was going to do it. Hadn't I been cutting his hair for 5 years? I just needed it cut straight, all the way around, just below my shoulders. Easy-peasy, rice-n-cheezy.
So, we got all set up. I pinned back the top sections of hair, and showed him where to make the first cut on the bottom layer. Just below my shoulders.
Me: "That's not much below my shoulders."
OK. It's fine, just keep going, pick up a part of the hair you just cut and make the next section match it. All the way around.
*snip snip around to the other side of my head*
Me: "That's a little higher, isn't it?"
Him: *waving the scissors in an increasingly distraught and pleading state* "I don't know what I'm doing! I'm nervous...my stomach hurts...I'm woozy..."
I ended up finished the job myself, and got ready to cut his hair.
*Pulling the clipppers out*
Me: "I'm trying to decide how daring I want to be."
Him: "What do you mean?"
*I hand him the clippers*
Him: "Uh uh. No way. I won't do it."
I wanted him to cut his own hair. He thought I was getting ready to have mine buzzed off.
I guess he really felt bad about the hair cut!
For the record, I think he did a great job. It got a little short on the other side, but nothing a few snips and some layering couldn't fix. We just made it business in the front and party in the back! As I've gotten older, my hair has gotten stiffer and straighter, so the shorter it is, the more I look like a puff ball. (You should see it shoulder length- instant helmet head, with no beauty parlor required!)