Today, I took The Boy to my stylist to get his hair done. (We go to Hair Cuttery, so it’s not like a fancy schmancy place, but I discovered this stylist not long after we moved into our house, and I liked her enough to return to her on several occasions.) He was very well-behaved throughout the whole cutting process, for which I was immensely grateful. She cut it shorter in the back and on the sides and left it a little longer on top, and I really like his hair. He looks like such a big boy!
Anyway, after his hair cut, it was my turn for a cut. I normally go to her every two months, but my last appointment was the Sunday after Mom died, and, well, I didn’t make the appointment because I was out of the country. Then February became March, March became April, and so on and so forth until – voila! – the calendar read June. So, I really needed to get my hair trimmed.
Usually, she washes my hair, trims the edges, then lets me kind of mess with it before I head back home. Today, though, The Boy was in a good mood (he was getting loads of attention from the other ladies in the salon) and I decided to let Kathy style my hair. After all, it had been a long while since I last had it styled, and I wanted to see what she would do with it so that I’d have more ideas in the morning than tossing it up into a ponytail or pulling it back with a barette.
So she did this really cool flippy thing at the bottom and just let the top do its thing. I told her I was still having issues with baby hair growing back, and I couldn’t quite tame it. She told me a little bit of hairspray goes a long way in taming stray hairs, and she gave me long layers to help work them into the rest of my hair. The result was great – I just wish I took pictures. But the only thing I could think once I put on my glasses and looked at myself in the mirror was, “Good Lord, I could use some make up.” Not much – just some eyeliner and gloss – but a little would certainly go a long way.