Daughter hates getting her haircut. She loves to play with her long blond tresses, and enjoys flipping it over her shoulder. She was not happy when I informed her she needs a haircut.
Our hairdresser looked a little different than the typical conservative hairdressers we have had in the past. She was reminiscent of the '80's rocker look, with white blond hair that was short and spiky and had some purple and green streaks. Daughter was not impressed.
As she was preparing to get her hair washed, she whispered, "I'll Miss You!" I looked at her and said, "Don't worry, I'll be here with you."
She gave me the look of death and said, "No Mom. I'm talking to MY HAIR."
Despite being a real "joy" at several points (she resisted laying down to get her hair washed, she wouldn't lean back into the chair once she returned; and she maintained a scowl for the first ten minutes) she came around and began talking to the hairdresser. She chattered about how her brother was gone at college, and that she had a new mom, and that her other mom died...
At this point I gave her the exasperated look of 'Why are we telling strangers, who five minutes ago you hated with a passion, the most intimate details of your life?' She said sorry and stopped talking. The hairdresser just looked confused. I was beginning to reconsider the wisdom of the haircut today.
Always an adventure with daughter.
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