I got my hair cut on Saturday.
Seeing my hair so much shorter made me feel bad for Flora who has been looking more and more ragamuffin-y of late. After I butchered her hair back in March, I’ve been a little skittish to cut her hair again. Or to have her hair cut by professionals. I was afraid she’d flip her wig (so to speak) and wiggle so much she’d end up with an even worse haircut that I gave her. (Although in hindsight, I’m not sure how that is possible.)
I gathered up my courage and went to the same place where Sean often gets his hair done. (Note to my hairstylist – sorry Joe! I know you were off on Sunday, and I figured I better strike while my courage was high.) We walked in and they were able to take her right away.
Flora looked so small in the chair.
She spent the entire haircut giving me and the hairstylist total “WTF?” looks. It probably didn’t help that the stylist thought her name was Melissa (I signed us in under my name). She didn’t make so much as a peep until we left the salon.
The hairstylist put some coloured gel in her hair to give her “highlights.” They washed out in tonight’s bath, but were adorable while they lasted.
I am so relieved that her first professional haircut went so well. She got a lollipop at the end and she was thoroughly enjoying it until it fell on the floor in the toddler clothes section. She was pretty grumpy when I wouldn’t let her have it back. The five-second rule doesn’t apply when it’s not your own house.
Wonder how long it will be until she asks me when she can colour her hair for real. Or what my natural hair colour is.