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Thursday, 31 January 2013

hairdressing 101


I was wondering through the rarely visited archived photo files on our family computer (which, it turns out, can in fact work when it feels like it, just not when I want it to), trying to come up with names for the dust bunnies in there that don't sound as if they are working in the adult movie industry, when I spotted these.  Unfortunately I had just taken a sip of my tea and had to do that choking spluttering thing that always looks so attractive.  Fortunately, the tea was, as usual, cold because I have the concentration span of the average two year old in a toy shop, so at least I didn't burn the inside of my nose while snorting and dissolving into a giggle puddle on the sofa.

* * * * *

With two older brothers and a tomboy for a mother, I anticipated  Petal going one of two ways:

Option a ~ Be extra super ultra girly.  Pink, fluffy, twinkly.  Like  soft squishy marshmallows.  Soft squishy marshmallows covered in glitter.  Soft squishy marshmallows covered in glitter singing  Norah Jones.  A complete rebellion against the march of the blue/black/grey sick brigade.
or
Option b ~ Walk the path of least resistance.  Live in jeans that hang so low you wonder what she does when they do actually fall down.  Learn to burp the entire alphabet on just one beaker of fizzy drink ~ the louder the better.  Dig around in the garden to find worms in the soil, and then keep them in a box on the back of her bike as pets (I did that).  Avoid  voluntarily climbing into a bath filled with hot water and anything approximating soap (I did that too).

                                                            (great picture of Petal! ^)

Before anyone starts jumping up and down in rage at my gross generalisations and sexist drivel, I'd like to draw your attention to the fact that this is the point ~ I thought she would throw herself entirely to either one extreme cliché or the other, as a reaction to the rest of us!

What I did not anticipate however, was that Petal would create Option c ~ go fairly girly, and take everyone else with her!  

So, the next time it's raining outside, and you can't find the pencil sharpener to make those colouring pencils use~able again . . . or  the trousers Fred has on are just too filthy to allow him to be seen wearing them out in public . . . or you were planning on playing some wonderfully healthy family board games but you open the cluedo box and some bright spark has nabbed the dice (does this stuff really only happen to me?) . . . 
       
   . . . instead, tip out that drawer or box or bag of hairbands and ribbons and clips, and have some fun!  Its up to you how far to take it, but if you have a wonder round a couple of pound shops at some point you could probably find yourself a salon cape, some of those bendy foam sticks things (I did mention the tomboy~ness earlier remember ~ I have no idea what they're supposed to be called) and a spray bottle!

            Try to convince your little people that this isn't supposed to be an opportunity to get their own back for you having to nit comb their hair last month, and encourage them to take turns.  Clips are do~able for younger fingers, and those that aren't quite so dexterous, while others might enjoy the challenge of plaits and pony~tails.  You could probably call it occupational therapy if you felt so inclined ~ improving hand/eye coordination,  refining fine motor skills, a sensory experience for both the individual doing the fiddling and the fiddle~ee . . . fiddle~er . . . you know what I mean!  

Two very important things to remember though ~ 

          First, hide the scissors, for reasons of safety (so they don't hurt themselves) and sanity (so they don't cut each others hair off ~ or yours.  Yes, you do have to join in.  That's the rules.)

          Secondly, keep the camera handy.  Photographic evidence is a wonderful thing . . . if you're in any doubt, tale another quick peek at Mr Manley . . .

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