For reasons not really beyond my control, I am far overdue for a haircut. My hair doesn’t cover the top of my head any more even when it is what I call long. But these days it is tickling my ears and the back of my neck. It is not long enough to be stylish. It just plain looks like I need a haircut. Maybe this week, but I have five days’ worth of things I am doing, so maybe not. When I passed eighty I found that scheduling more than one major event a day was a trial and was apt to interrupt my nap schedule.
Besides, to use a today buzzword, I think I have “issues” about getting my hair cut. One of my first memories is of the day I found out that my usually calm mother had a fiery temper. (The gene for which I am told she passed along to me.) I was sitting up on that board-like thing the barber put across the arms of the barber chair to prop up little people enough to be shorn. Mother took offense to how the barber was trimming my bangs (do boys have bangs?) or something. Suddenly, she grabbed the “sheet” over me and tore it away. In those days Velcro was unheard of. Big safety pins fastened it together around the neck. The pin opened and threatened my jugular.
Oh, but the embarrassment of being led down the street to another shop with half a haircut and a bloody neck. The explanations were hard to sit through also.
Alas, being little wasn’t always fun and games.
2 comments:
:-)! How long is your hair now? One of my other friends has his hair grown quite some now and he insists it is fashionable (most of the women folk around him think otherwise though!).
It was very difficult to put up too much of a fight against "mommy says so" when we are small!
I'm not sure how to measure my hair, but if I were a lawn, I'm sure someone would mow me.
Yep, that was true true about my "mommy" right up until she was 89 and I was 68.
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