Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Haircut


This house remodel has been a little tough on everyone.  Things that would have normally been a priority have been let go.  I have forgotten to pay bills, feed the dog, put food back in the fridge, and condition my hair. 

Sadly, the kids have suffered as well.  They have gone days without eating a green vegetable, since most healthy veggies require washing, cutting, and cooking.  Our go-to vegetables are carrot sticks, since they don't have to be washed or cut.  Bob Evans macaroni and cheese is a weekly staple, and the crackers, chips, and cookies are overflowing from the shelves.  I hate to have them eat this way, but ease of use completely trumps health at this point.

Another arena in which I have let my poor kids down is in the hair department.  Prior to our house being torn apart, I would get their hair cut regularly.  The girls have bangs, so those have to be cut all the time.  Even though hair care is almost totally unrelated to a kitchen remodel, for some reason, all appointments, including those for haircuts, got thrown out the window.  

Danny was the first to give in and demand a haircut.  He even dragged out a little stool into the middle of our backyard one day, plugged in our pathetic trimmers, and begged me to shave away.  So I did.  And he was very happy.

Emma was the next to complain about her hair.  Her bangs were so busy shading her eyes she was having trouble reading!  She asked me to cut her bangs one afternoon while the babies were napping.  She's a smart girl.  She knows we can't possibly work with sharp things with J.D. conscious and trolling the rooms for tools.  So I chopped her bangs.  And she was very happy.

Cubby is last in the long line of hairy haircare heroes.  Sorry, it's late, and I'm getting a little silly.  Anyway, her hair had gotten OUT OF CONTROL.  Check it:

Oh, my beloved second born daughter.  I love you so much.  I love the stringy hair in your eyes, the chocolate sauce dripping from your face, and more than anything, the look of sheer bliss on your face.  You are most assuredly my child. 




So I walked into the sweet Wal-Mart salon the other day with Cubby and the twins in tow.  The lady looked our way, scanned all four of us for unruly hair.  When her eyes landed on Cubby, she pursed her lips and began wordlessly searching for a pair of scissors.  She quickly piled up cushions on the swiveling, pumped up, hair-cutting chair, ensconced Cubby on her throne, covered her in a jazzy drape, and cut away all the stringy madness. 

Now just look at this happy child.




Oh yeah, I should have warned you, she's silly.




Very silly.




But do not laugh at her. She gets ticked.  This is a mean face.  I know!  It's hard to believe this is a mean face when her new haircut is smiling and saying, "I'm not mean, I am completely wonderful, shiny, and sweet!"





This is her, "Who me?" coy, flirty face.




She's going to be a heartbreaker....haircut or not!

1 comment:

Ayron S. Moiola said...

I'm so happy you're back! I know I practically live the blogs with you, but I really missed it!