This is a common battle. She refuses to accept that no matter WHAT I do to it, my hair will not remain combed. And it doesn't help that her idea of "a good length" is my idea of "a shaven head." She accuses me of looking like a girl about when it gets to the length I prefer.
I did get my revenge. At the time, I was playing with a very old 1980's-era gadget called the "Little Professor." It's essentially a simpler Manic Math Machine (see below)- ten math questions on the same operator, with two-minute time limits for each. It gives you three chances for each problem, but you only score if you're right the first time.
I finished my run of Multiplication Level Four. Displayed flashing on the screen was my score:
I gave my mother a turn on the same settings.
The blank look on her face was absolutely priceless. It is a memory I shall cherish as long as I live, perhaps through several lifetimes. She looked exactly like the average college student in a quantum physics class.
15 minutes later, she handed the unit back to me, still displaying her score: