Author: Julie H., Foster Mom
Let me just preface this blog by saying that I’ve cut my three boys’ hair their whole lives. A culmination of 22 years experience in cutting men’s hair…NOT professionally, but a “good enough” haircut for my kids and husband. So, when I offered to try to cut Miss D’s hair, it was one of the worst mistakes I could have made! We discussed that if I screw it up, then we can just get it fixed tomorrow, and Miss D seemed like this was not a bad idea so we went ahead with me trying to cut her hair.
I won’t get into the details of the actual cutting, but after years of watching people cut my hair, I feel like I was doing a good job (just some long layers). When the hair was wet, Miss D actually kind of liked it. I’m sure there are some social media pictures of her with this haircut where she has a big smile on her face! THEN, she tried to straighten and dry her hair. She came into the kitchen and all I can say is that she looked like a character from The Wizard of Oz. Her hair is currently purple and pink, so that didn’t help the characterization that popped into my head.
It’s bad. Really bad. As she looked into the mirror in the kitchen, one tear started falling down her cheek, then two tears, then the sobbing started. My husband then came into the house, and he was asking what was going on…because he had been gone to the store while I had this idea…and I was physically blocking his view of Miss D by moving my arms and body to block her. I knew I was in trouble…because he does not like seeing Miss D cry. So then she showed him her hair and started sobbing again. I immediately ran to get the scissors to see if I could fix it. After one cut of the scissors, I decided I’m in over my head and stopped immediately. While she is still sobbing, and near the kitchen sink getting the hair wet again, our good friends walk into the house and see the catastrophe unfolding. Bless their hearts, they tried to make Miss D feel better by saying they really liked her haircut but the sobbing and screaming continued. At that point, I promised that I would take her to the haircut place as soon as it opened at 9 am and that she didn’t have to go to school until this was fixed. She was able to calm down at that point.
And when I called her school to report her absence, you can bet that they got the WHOLE sordid story…hopefully they thought it was a tad funny…unlike Miss D.
