So I told Molly she needed her bangs trimmed. She said she wanted our hairdresser, Jessica, to do it. After she asked several times I finally caved and said, "OK, I'll make an appointment." Molly ran over to the phone that instant and said, "I'll dial the numbers!"
So her appointment was this afternoon. I had to wake her up from nap to get there in time and she seemed a little groggy and shy, but when I asked if she wanted to sit on my lap or sit in the chair on her own she said she wanted to sit on her own. I didn't think she meant it, but she did! The salon was crowded and noisy, and Molly was straight-faced in the waiting area, but when Jessica came to get her she was dead set on doing it alone (I went back with them and sat near her reading a book, pretending I wasn't there).
She didn't say much to Jessica and barely smiled. She was even shaking the slightest bit when Jessica put on the cape -- it was killing me -- but she didn't want me involved. She sat still for the whole thing, looking down or up or wherever Jessica told her to. She even agreed to a French braid and sat still for it, including a blow dry for her bangs and hair spray for the braid.
Here's the result:
This whole experience made me think of a funny book I just read from the library called the Stay-at-Home-Martyr, which picks on moms who buy expensive shoes and designer clothes for their toddlers but can't be bothered to brush their own hair or put on anything nicer than a dirty old t-shirt. Here I am sitting in my own salon watching my daughter get the full prom-style up-do from my hairdresser just for the fun of it, while I'm wearing a stained t-shirt and a ponytail that's half falling out and paying the (albeit $10) bill. At least she offered me a lick of her beloved lollipop afterward. It's hard to hold a grudge.
1 comment:
Molly I just loved your hair. You are getting ti be a big girl. Love you Beppe.
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