An Afternoon at the Salon

Only once in my life did I attempt to cut my daughters' hair. It only took once to realize that I am no stylist. I ended up taking them to a salon and having their hair "fixed." Don't get me wrong, I cut the Mr's and Josh's hair every two to three weeks when the two of them suddenly feel overwhelmed by the bush growing on the tops of their heads. I am using hyperbole here. Jer would keep his army "do" if I'd let him, and Josh is just obsessively neat with his locks. I asked him once if he'd like to grow his hair long and be a rock 'n' roll drummer, but his alpha male testosterone took over his mouth as he blurted "Heck no! I'd look like a GIRL!!!!" Josh is a little OCD about his hair anyway. I have to talk him through the months of September and October to help him overcome his fear of a shaggy head.

"We need to grow your hair out a little longer for the winter so you wont be so cold."

"I know. I just hate how shaggy it is."

"It isn't even touching your ears."

"I know. I just don't want bangs."

"You wont have bangs. But you'll be cold if you keep your buzz cut."

I kid you not, Josh looks forward to spring when I shear his head. I discovered the real reason behind his angst. He doesn't want to have to spend that extra ten minutes a day combing out his hair. I can't wait to remind him of this fact in a couple of years when he's poised in front of the mirror for an hour trying to get that "just right" moppy look. Or whatever is in style by then.

Due to this crazy semester I'm having, I allowed Ruth to look like a sheep dog. Her bangs were well into her eyes and the layers that had been cut into the back of her hair a month or so ago were practically non-existent. There just hasn't been a moment in time where I could take her to get it trimmed up. I wasn't about to even touch her bangs. I was clipping them back with a bobby pin. Being that today was that oh-so-important holiday of Columbus Day, the kids were off from school, so I dragged them to the mall for a cut. I don't usually go to the mall, I was just desperate and my regular salon is closed on Mondays. Go figure.

We were very fortunate. One of the stylists took us right away, and Ruth hopped up into the chair. Meanwhile, Hannah, began to entertain herself with singing. Before long, she realized she had acquired a captive audience of fellow customers sitting in salon chairs and became more purposeful in her performance. After a bit, Ruth was finished, and it was Hannah's turn in the big chair.

As she hopped up the stylist said, "You like to sing, don't you?"

"Yup!" she replied cheerfully. She was thrilled to get her hair cut.

"How old are you?" asked the stylist.

"I'm four. I'm a Hannah monkey. I'm cute and sometimes funny and sometimes Veeeeeery annoying."

With that, the entire salon burst out in laughter. Hannah, playing to her crowd, ever the comedian, beamed from ear to ear knowing she had reeled them in, and had delivered her punch line with finesse.