Her First Real Haircut
May 1, 2007
My daughter’s hair has turned into a scraggly mop. She hates having it brushed. She hates wearing “pretties” to hold her hair back out of her face. Unless she puts them in herself, which is not exactly an attractive look either. I suppose I could just get over myself and let her do what she wants with her hair, since it is her hair.
But I am a control freak.
This is what her hair usually looks like on any given day. The front section is at least 6 inches shorter than the back. And it looks like she has a permanent case of bed head. Or like she is growing out a mullet. Which I swear she has never had.
It might not be a bad look if you were a medieval scullery maid.
But on a 21st century toddler? Not so attractive.
So this morning I could take no more and made an appointment at the hairdresser. I called it the beauty parlor thinking it would make the place more enticing for her. Turns out I need not have worried. She had no problem getting into it.
And wished I would wash her hair every night in a special sink.
I wasn’t so sure about the bangs. Thinking about all the growing them out horror stories, including my own. Which is why I still have bangs 30 years later. But then I thought about not having to look at hair in her face, or seeing it dragged into her mouth while she eats, and trying to get the dried food out of the front while she thrashes about like I am Edward Scissorhands. Bangs seemed like the logical choice.
Suddenly she looks like a big kid with real hair.
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