Column: Submarine captain or sheep shearer? Only your barber knows for sure.

By Thomas Winterhoff

First published on December 13, 2000
Copyright © Thomas Winterhoff

Don’t look up. Try not to catch their eye. They can smell fear, you know.

Sitting in a worn vinyl chair that looked (and felt) like it dated from the early Pleistocene epoch, I buried my nose deep into an ancient copy of Maclean’s magazine and waited my turn at the barbershop with bated breath and beads of sweat slowly forming on my brow.

I’d been putting off this haircut for a couple of weeks, as I usually end up doing. I’m generally not too concerned about the routine maintenance of my hair, but like most people, I like to find a place where I at least feel comfortable. At the very least, you hope to leave the shop not looking like you placed 23rd out of 22 aspirants in a Peewee Herman look-alike contest.

Column: Adventures in Babysitting: Part 2

By Thomas Winterhoff

First published on August 1, 2001
Copyright © Thomas Winterhoff

This past Canada Day long weekend, while my wife slept in the other room, I spent my mornings showering with a curvaceous blond.

It was not a particularly pleasant experience, however, since it would seem that the Barbie doll at my feet had spent many days lying at the bottom of the tub (along with a host of other children’s toys, bits of Duplo and various plastic incarnations of Saturday morning cartoon characters). She was looking a little the worse for wear, quite frankly.

Column: Need some light entertainment? Get yourself a nephew.

By Thomas Winterhoff

First published on December 13, 2000
Copyright © Thomas Winterhoff
 

My nephew has got to be the coolest three-year old on the planet.

I am in the enviable position of being either an uncle or a pseudo-uncle to a six-pack of kids belonging to sundry relatives or close friends. Since my wife and I are waiting at least a few more few years before starting a family of our own, all these wee folk essentially provide a pre-natal boot camp, if you will, to prepare us for what we may see in years to come.

The nicest thing about it is that we can revert to kids ourselves as we play with Lego and throw water balloons. It also gives us the very welcome option of quickly handing the little tykes back to their rightful owners once they starting oozing liquids or other noxious substances, or start destroying the house beyond recognition. It’s a very convenient arrangement – and offers up some premium entertainment value at the same time.