Wednesday's Musings

Good morning, ya'll come on in, dinner will ready in a little while and ya'll are welcome to stay and have a bite. Just ham sandwiches and salad today but it you stick around I'm baking some cupcakes. I am going to take them to the retirement home for Daddy and his friends. Trying a new icing recipe and will let you know if it is any good.

Got a hair cut yesterday and it set me to thinking. Now the same man has cut my hair for about 20 years and he is goooood. Because he cuts many of my friends hair he can catch me up on all the news - not gossip- news.

I remember the first time I had a man to cut my hair and it was a barber in a barber shop. I like my hair short and don't want all the extras and Don would cut it for me better than any beautician I knew and was a lot cheaper. Didn't have any trouble at all going to a barber shop for I get along with men better that women, but that's another day and another tale.

The biggest shock was the first time I saw a man in a beauty salon with permanent curlers in his hair. My goodness gracious, a MAN in a beauty shop getting a permanent but that was in that time period where men were doing this, but it sure put a damper on the conversation unless he was under the dryer.

How are you going to discuss the problems we are having with men if one of them is sitting there listening? Do you think I am going to discuss my gynecologist in front of a man or how bent out of shape I am over what my husband has done? He surely doesn't need to know all about my female problems or all the gossip around town and where else can we talk openly except at the beauty shop? You see, he just ruined the one place where women could be women and not have to filter because a man is around. Why heck, when I went to the barber shop they didn't stop talking when I came in. We just continued the gossip session and discussed all their male problems, but it's different at the beauty shop. Our lives and conversations are much more complicated than the men.

That man sure ruined that visit to the beauty shop. A man also ruined another trip for me. As I have said I wear my hair pretty short and years ago I wore it real short. When I sat down in the chair I asked my beautician the common question, "How are you?" Wrong question that day for it was not going well for her. She was having husband problems!

First she turned my back to the mirror which was a bit unusual then she sprayed my hair to get it wet but it was well sprayed and was running down my neck, forehead and into my ears. Then she picked up the scissors and the comb and began to CUT. Now I had made the appointment for a TRIM, but I got a CUT. She began to tell me about her sorry, no good, skunk of a husband and the faster she talked, the faster those scissors were cutting. I began to suspect a problem when she stopped ranting and raving and got real quiet. But it was not until slowly she turned the chair so I could look in the mirror that I began to realize it was SHORT short.

Oh my, it was short and that only began to describe what it looked like. It was SHORT!! She began to apologize and I turned white and tears began to slowly trickle down my face. All the women in the shop became quiet and conversation came to a halt.

I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a short, spiked hair cut with the longest hair on the top being about 1 inch long, maybe. I looked like I had stuck my finger in a light socket and all my hair was standing on end. She began to apologize and and I tried to make her feel better about it while trying not to cry and wonder what everyone was going to say. I could just hear the kids at school next day and my own 2 refusing to be seen with me in public.

Pretending I was having chemo treatments entered my mind but everybody knew I was healthy as a horse so that wouldn't work. It was against dress code for me to wear a cap to school and I don't like scarves on my head so I knew we had to make the best of it. She combed and dried and moused and gelled but it still was rather strange looking but I knew it would grow back and it was warm weather and my husband was out of town for about a month so maybe it would be OK.

When I arrived at the house and walked in the door, I thought my 2 kids were going to die laughing after they got over the shock. I ran to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and began to cry again and brush and comb but to no avail. It looked like the butch haircut my brothers used to wear. I did the best I could and hoped for the best.

Dreading to go to school the next morning I arrived early and hurried to the library and wished I could hide. Teachers didn't say much and pretended I didn't look like a boy. The kids were another matter and the most surprising. They said things like, "Cool, Mrs. Robson," "Way to go Mrs. Robson, spiked looks good on you." I began to think maybe it wasn't so bad after all for if the kids liked it that made it better.

So, I bought some gel and some mousse and just let it spike until it grew out. Sure was glad it was a month before I saw my husband however, for I'm not sure he would have thought it was cool.

I learned an invaluable lesson - never ask a woman or man with a pair of scissors in their hands and the power to cut your hair how they are doing. It can be a "hairy" experience.

Nuff said,

The Georgia Peach

1 comment:

Jeanne said...

Hey Momma Robson,

Add cupcakes to the food table for our arrival:)

Your FAV Adopted Daughter