Hair today?

Aug 25, 2010: I didn’t have a plan for it.  There was no circled date on the calendar.  I didn’t have an appointment.  In fact, when I dropped Chi in front of her TaeKwonDo gym, I had every intention of getting Ya’s shoes on his feet (which he removed, like always, in the five minutes it takes to drive from the house to the class) and then going to watch Chi’s practice.  But then, as we walked into the gym, I felt myself inexplicably drawn to the “Back to School Haircut $10” sign on the storefront two doors down.  It was like a magnetic force was calling me and I heard this voice (it sounded like Daddy M) saying “We’ve got to do something about his hair” sounding in my head.

I walked passed the door twice – once pausing long enough to catch that attention of the receptionist and draw a perplexed look as if she was saying, “well, can I help you?” without saying a thing – but I didn’t go in.  Then I took in the sign on the door again.  I spotted my favorite window dressing (the Mastercard and Visa logos).  And I led Ya into the salon.  Thankfully, there was a different woman seated at the reception desk, so I didn’t feel too weird about my hesitation.

I walked up timidly.  You’d have thought I was there for a major surgery – something irreversible and life threatening.  I cleared my throat.  “Um, I was hoping to get his hair cut?  Just maybe a shape up on the sides, nothing drastic… just… fixed?”  And as she glanced down at Ya, who stood at my side with one shoe turning on its side and then back flat while he glared up with skeptical eyebrow raised, and called, “Susan?” 

At this point, a blonde woman – purse and phone in hands – paused in her quick stride toward the door.  “Susan, do you have time for one last cut?”

She smiled at Ya, and taking one look at me (I’ve no idea the expression, but I’m pretty sure it was a mix of aprehension and begging) said, “No problem” as she flipped on her heels and walked back to her station.  We followed.  She opened a few draws, withdrew her scissors and two combs, and said, “Okay, little man.  Sit in the chair.”  Ya looked at her, looked at the chair, back at Susan and said, “No sit.”

I began to apologize, coming close to force Ya into a seated position on the chair.  He repeated, “no sit,” and locked his legs.  Susan says, without concern, “He can stand if he wants to” and sets to combing out the curled tangles of Ya’s fro.  I thought about apologizing again for the state of the boy’s hair, but honestly, it never looks like I brushed it beyond 10 minutes of it being done.  He’s got that kind of hair.

Susan got a barber’s smock to put around Ya’s shoulders and explained to his raised eyebrow, “So you don’t get hair all over your shirt.”  She then proceeded to pick his hair until it was tangle free, and though Ya had this “who is this woman and why is she messing with my hair” face on, he allowed her to do it.

When she began to scissor cut his hair, Ya watched her intently through the mirror.  He observed his curly locks hitting the floor.  And he stood completely still and quiet.

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And then Susan was done. She combed through his hair again, patted the top smooth, and said, “Here you are.”

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And she undid his smock, I picked him up off the chair, and he said “Tay-too.”
I’m certain the change is so minimal that no one will notice.  Chi certainly didn’t.  But I see it.  I see my little baby is gone and what I have now is a little boy.  A real boy.  Where on earth did I lose the last two years?
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Comments

  1. Annette Whelan says:

    What a gorgeous little guy!! You commented on my sweet shot a couple weeks ago about my macro shot. I set up the tripod, with manual exposure set the spot metering, shutter 0.4, iso 100 aperture. Set one side toward window for some natural light and added a water droplet. The reflection was of what was on the countertop and the leaves from the plant. Your photos are great!!

Trackbacks

  1. […] near his head. (It’s a great kid repellant, let me tell you). So I decided to get it cut. The first time, it was a scissor cut high top. I loved it, Dad did not. Days later, Dad shaved my baby’s […]

  2. […] he turned two, I was so devoted to his baby ‘fro that I was afraid to sheer much of it off. His first cut, then, was a scissor trim that left a rather high, totally cool high top that suited Ya’s […]

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