A couple of weekends ago, Nicholas and I found ourselves sitting at Starbucks on a late Saturday night. He had a paper to write and I had an email inbox to tackle, so for the next little bit, we worked in silence (except for all the times I interrupted him to say “LET ME READ YOU THIS BLOG COMMENT!”).

All of the sudden — and without warning — he said a few magic words that caused one of my life dreams to come to pass right before my eyes:

“Would you want to cut my hair?”

Y’all, I swear to you that I slammed my laptop shut, grabbed my purse and headed for the door. Would I like to cut his hair? I mean, really, what kind of question is that? OF COURSE I WANT TO BE GIVEN PERMISSION TO PLAY BEAUTY SHOP!!!!!!!!!!

I know what some of y’all are thinking: why in the world would Gosling ask me to cut his hair? The answer was simple, my friends: he had been invited to go over to hang out with some friends (read: GIRLS) later that night and he wanted his hair to look good so he could impress all the ladies. Given that it was late at night and all the local barber shops were closed, he had but one option left and her name was Amy Beth, Hairstylist to the Stars.

Now, to make what you’re about to see even funnier, I need to give you a bit of a back story. Earlier that week, I had mentioned to Nicholas that I used to work in a HUGE hair salon. I didn’t go into specifics, so Nicholas just assumed I used to cut hair — when, really, I used to work as a receptionist there. I didn’t know he thought that though, so whilst he thought he was getting ready to get his hair cut by someone who used to cut hair for three years, I thought he just trusted my innate ability to cut hair for the first time ever.

If you think the story is funny now, just wait until you see the pictures.

We got to my house and I made him sit in the kitchen and put one of my darling towels around his shoulder. He LOVED having a flowered towel wrapped around him!

Since this was a full-service beauty salon, I served snacks whilst he waited for me to assemble my tools. Remember, this is the face of a boy who thinks he’s about to get a haircut from someone who used to cut hair in an upscale salon.

I took a picture of the back so you could see what atrocity I had to work with that night. All I have to say is Nicholas must live by the idea of business in the front, party in the back.

Now, in my defense on the whole salon thing, I think Nicholas should have figured out what was going on right around the time I pulled out my pink kitchen shears instead of real haircutting scissors. But lo, he did not and so, really, it’s not like I can be held responsible for what happened next.

I started snipping and jerking and pulling and, somewhere in the middle of it, Nicholas mentioned something about my having cut hair before. I froze. Then he froze. And then, in one horrible moment that seemed to last forever, he figured out that I had never cut hair before.

Do you see the tears forming in his eyes? And the redness coming into his face?

I told him to suck it up because he was starting to make the beauty shop game not fun. He said that I had to stop calling it the beauty shop game and I replied by placing a warm, wet towel across his face. That’s how we do men’s haircuts at Amy Beth’s House of Beauty, you know.

Once I had the towel in position, I began gently beating on his face and head because I think that’s what they do in the movies, you know? So there I was beating and for some crazy reason he didn’t like it and, well, the beauty shop game ended far before it had even reached its prime. I mean, he totally missed on the facial! And the eyebrow wax!!!

I’d love to show you a finished product but, to be honest, his hair kinda ended up looking awful and by awful I mean there were three little — TINY — bald spots and okay, maybe they weren’t exactly tiny but it wasn’t like they were huge, maybe just average sized and, anyway, I can’t figure out why he was so upset about them because, hello, it isn’t like his hair won’t grow back fast.

Wait, right? It’ll grow back fast, won’t it?

I sure hope so, ’cause my scissors are ready and waiting, Gosling.

P.S. – Yes, that’s why you saw his head shaved in the picture included in this post. Can you believe he had the nerve to shave my artwork off his head? Jerkasaurus.

P.P.S. – A couple of my college girls were still at my house last night when the topic of Gosling being on the blog a lot lately came up and they began to lament how he gets far more blog time then they do. I walked back into my kitchen a few minutes later to find Honour at the table doing the following:

That’s right: she was using pebbles from a bowl on my table to spell out “No more Nick!”

I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.