It was time. Last Friday we took Celia for her first "real" haircut. I'd trimmed the back of her hair once, months ago, and cut her bangs, but this time she went to the good 'ole 'beauty parlor.' Now, to understand this accurately you must know the background about this 'beauty parlor.' This is not the fancy, serve you coffee or wine sort of salon place. Nor is it embellished with trendy hair posters of sexy bombshells and stud muffin men. No, no, no, this place does not have shelves and shelves of hair product tempting the smallest cent in your pocket. This 'beauty parlor' is plain and simple a place where you get your hair cut. But, what makes this place so special is Debbie. Debbie has cut John Paul's hair since his first haircut and cut his 3 older sisters' hair before that. She has cut the four grandchildren's hair, since their first haircut. She cuts John Paul's parents' hair every other week, not to mention the countless friends of our family whom she has treated the same; Debbie is part of the family. Debbie is a sweetie who has photos of my niece and nephew on her little tack board. And, now, Debbie has cut the 5th grandchild's hair (Samuel won't get near a pair of scissors to save his life!). Let me tell you, this was not the sweet storybook experience you might expect. Oh no! This was Holy Hell. Celia started off happy and ignorant, if you will, of what was to come. She giggled, climbed up and down from the salon hair dryers. She sang. She danced. She looked through a magazine. She moved the cushion from chair to chair. Then it was time. It was time for Celia to scream a dreadful cry and sit tortured through 5 minutes of, plain and simple, haircut. I'm certain that you could hear her wails outside. John Paul braced her flailing body as I snapped as many photos as I could. She finally buried her head in his chest in a final surrender. I was so fearful that this haircut would be as 'crooked as a dog's leg,' but it is actually very cute. I was so surprised when Debbie told me that she cut it shorter in the back and angled longer toward the front. I wondered how she could cut any of it strait, let alone not cut herself throughout the ordeal. She's a pro. That's for sure. Better her than me. I just take the pictures around here. :)
