Barber life story

In the past, I lived in a village that was still ten miles away from the town, and although the road was not very far, I had to go over several beams every time I went to the town. For this reason, if you are not shopping for something urgent, you will not travel easily.

For something as inconsequential as a haircut, my father would not allow the trouble of traveling to town because it would delay the family's work. In my father's eyes, it was just a matter of lifting a finger. When my hair grew long, my father took out my mother's scissors that she used to use to cut fabrics and clumsily cut my hair short, saving me time and money. The father's handiwork is really general, after cutting seven long eight short, out of the door, the small friends are laughing at me, I also began to dislike the father's handiwork, refused to let my father to help me cut the hair.

Instead, my father took me to the home of an uncle in the village, who is a real barber in the village. He went to the school to give students a haircut, and went to the units to give cadres a haircut, and when the market was in full swing, he also went to the market with a light-blue canvas bag to help people from all over the country to get a haircut. Uncle's haircutting skills are skillful and kind, the village door to find him a constant stream of haircutting people. He is not entirely rely on haircutting to earn a living, usually have to work in the field, meet the busy season, late at night before leading the cattle, carrying a hoe, carrying a basket home, and then have to wait for him to finish the wine, eat, smoke a cigarette, and then set out the haircutting tools, combs, shaving knives, push clippers, sponges, a full set. His haircut is to pay attention to, clean hair, put on the hood, trimming hair, trimming the edges, well organized. I was very satisfied with the beautiful hairstyle, and I have not been cynical since.

My father gave him money, he always pushed and refused to accept. He said, "It's just a cigarette, it's just a small thing, it's not important," he said.

Later, when the road was opened, it was convenient to go to the town, and there were trucks, tractors, and tricycles coming in and out of the village, and if I wanted to get a haircut, I would run to the barbershop in town.

After many years, I drove home that day, just met my uncle from the town back to the village, I let him take a ride, all the way to the side of the road, we walk and chatter, that scene of the past and all the reappearance, razor click sound echo in the ear.