It’s holiday time!
Bill’s on holiday and we are all packed and ready for a week in Cape San Blas. Even a peek at the scheduled weather forecast of thunderstorms and thunderstorms isn’t dampening our spirit, yet. Buckets and spades are primed and ready.
In anticipation of being able to take lots of lovely photos of Bill and Sam at the beach I decided that Sam really ought to get over his current bad hair days.
Yeah, I had a go at cutting his hair the other week and did a miserable job. My usual tactic of treats in front of something entertaining on the telly didn’t work and I just managed to butcher his hair when he kept trying to grab the scissors. So, unbeknownest to Bill I decided that Sam ought to visit a proper salon today and hopefully avoid looking like he’s had a run in with a lawnmower in our holiday snaps.
I took him over to Salon Red Kids in Decatur. When we got there two stylists were already battling two young children in fits of tears. Sam was intrigued, but too taken with a wooden multistorey car park and accompanying cars to take much notice or be distressed by the hullabaloo. I was really nervous. I was just hoping that when it came to be Sam’s turn that the hairdresser wouldn’t have as bad of a time as I had. I was terribly worried that Sam would be such a pain that I’d end up paying for a cut that would look just as awful as my home hack job. On an even playing field of course the hairdresser would surely do a much better job than me, but I just wasn’t convinced that anyone could cope with a wriggling upset Sam and do a good job!
Sam’s turn came and instead of the normal hairdresser’s seat he climbed up into a little elevated car. In front of him was a TV screen showing cartoons. None of this really mattered though because as soon as the spray came out and the scissors appeared he started bawling and demanding “Mummy Hugs!”
The hairdresser switched the cartoons to an Elmo show and made a big deal that Elmo was on the telly. I didn’t mention that actually programs starring Elmo are off limits in our house and so he wouldn’t really get the recognition or reaction small children usually seem to give him. I was hoping that maybe the unfamiliarity might actually work in our favour and get his attention. It didn’t.
I tried to console him but then the poor boy tried to climb up into my arms instead. I just had to step back and hope for the best while the stylist furiously snipped away and somehow seemed to be able to remain in control. Sam eventually calmed down a little and seemed to make a begrudging peace with the stylist as she cut, he offered her one of the cars he was zealously clutching.
After his hair cut trauma Sam needed a stiff drink.
I can’t say we really got what we asked for in terms of style, but I think that’s more to do with Sam’s amazingly straight hair than anything else. Any inconsistency is very noticeable with Sam. Her intent was to keep the length, but with layers, more of a tousled surfer boy look. I think I’ll need to tidy it up a little bit if I can later, but the finished result was definitely well worth paying for and hopefully our holiday photos will now be happy memories not means of torture for a grown up Sam.
Next moment of anxiety came when I took Sam to meet Bill after work. I wasn’t sure what Daddy was going to say. Thankfully he approved. Phew! I was almost tempted to hide these photos, forego the journal entry and pretend I’d done it myself. 😉