My Hair Stylist
Ever since my little five year old granddaughter was around two years old, she has had an intense desire to “fix hair”. So most of my visits since then has revolved around her fixing my hair.
When she first “opened her salon”, she would sit me down and fluff my hair up and stick a bow on it, and declare,”Pretty!”
As she started getting older and more advanced in her hair styling skills, she would start combing and brushing it vigorously. I would sit there and smile and try not to act alarmed but she was really pulling my hair at times. When the occasional, “Ouch!” slipped out, she would say, “Sorry!” and try to be more gentle.
On our last “hair styling session” I realized that I was going to have to start setting some limits.
She began with the combing. She was trying to comb the natural curl out of my hair to make it look like her naturally straight long hair. When she got frustrated with this task, she decided to put it up in a pony tail.
She had one of those “twisty ponytail holders” in my hair all tangled up. When she couldn’t pull it back out, I reached back to see what kind of condition it was in. It was tangled and twisted almost beyond repair.
“What did you do?”, I asked. “How are we going to ever get this out?”
She said, ” I think we’re going to have to cut it out!”
“Oh, no!” I cried. I decided I just had to draw the line at the scissors! With all of her new found talent, I still didn’t think she was skilled enough to start cutting.
I pulled and tugged until it finally came loose. And another “hair styling” session had come to a close.
I don’t doubt that one day she will be a wonderful hair stylist, and I will look forward to getting my hair done by her.
But in the mean time, if you happen to see me with one side of my hair quite a bit more lopsided than the other–please don’t laugh!