I just love embarrassing moments!

I have no formal training as a hairdresser (alarming fact) but it never stopped my husband asking me to cut his hair. I've been cutting his hair for the past 20 years now and one should think that he has learned his lesson by now. (I'm an expert in disaster haircuts). Maybe he's suffering from memory loss, or maybe he is in denial or just too lazy to go to the hairdresser.

Whatever the reason, he comes back everytime! On one occasion he had to go overseas to do work for his company. He asked me to give him a nice hairstyle in order to impress the people overseas. Eager to meet his terms I got carried away on the one side of his head, taking off a lot of hair above his ear. I tried to disguise the bald spot but it only got bigger and bigger.

Feeling desperate, I moved to the other side. My hands were sweaty and shaking. To balance out the "hairstyle" I took off the same amount of hair on that side. The back of his head looked funny so I took a lot of hair off to try to "balance" the head. He ended up with a little fuzzy "hat" of hair on his head, the sides and back partly bold with short uneven hair sticking out. It was a catastrophe!

He was furious but couldn't do anything about it. The next morning I took him to the airport and while going through the checkpoints, security stopped him because he looked suspicious. He had to unpack his luggage and was very embarrassed because everyone was staring at him. Later, when he was back at work, his co-workers said he looked like a member of "Gestapo" (Secret Germany Police). For many days his hair was the topic of conversation at work. To this day he blames my "Gestapo" haircut for all the problems he encountered at airport security. I still giggle about the incident (privately of course).

I was 19 years old and had beautiful, straight, blonde, medium length hair. But, as with most teenage girls, it wasn't good enough. I looked through magazines and saw all the lovely curly hairstyles and decided it was time for a change.

I could not afford a hairdresser so I asked my mom to perm my hair at home. She did the perm like she always did it on her head, small little curlers rolled tightly against the head. When she took the curlers out, it looked like nice little curls and I was very impressed with the results.

However, while drying my hair, I got a sick feeling on my stomach. Things were not going as planned. My hair was so frizzy; I could not even get the brush through it. No matter what I did, my hair was a knotty fuzz ball that stood up. My hair had a life of its own; there was nothing I could do to tame it. My mom told me to wet my hair again and let it dry naturally, which I did, but it still looked horrible.

I cried my eyes out because I wanted soft curls and I got exactly the opposite. I had to go to work that Monday and I nearly died. Everybody rolled on the floor laughing when they saw me; they teased me for about a month afterwards. I had to cut my hair to get rid of the horrible perm. Never again!

-Years ago I lived close to a lake where temperatures dropped below zero during the night. One morning I found my car completely covered in ice, I was running late and decided to scratch a little opening in the frosty windscreen and drive to work. I drove with my nose against the windscreen, barely able to see the road. The next moment I heard a loud thud, I had collided with the pavement and had a flat tyre. A co-worker stopped and helped me change the tyre. I was so embarrassed because he told everybody at work how stupid I was.

-I love going camping and on this occasion I tied a hammock between trees. I was trying to get comfortable in the hammock when one of the ropes broke. I rolled down a little hill and landed under our parked car. I'm pleased to say that no one saw my not so graceful exit from the hammock.

Courtesy Gruntzooki, Flickr