Today, Bird had her first real haircut-- a little buster brown hairdo, cute as a button. No pictures yet, because she was awarded a tootsie pop by the beauty shop lady, and therefore had no nap because she was high on sugar, so I had no shower. Which matters not. I didn't take pictures because she has been a grouch.
I visited a patient in a very small (and CUTE) town in Kentucky on Wednesday, and I started feeling my small-town itch (contrary to popular belief, the small-town itch is not something that gets passed around the cheerleading squad and the football team). I'm from a little burg, and sometimes I feel like I should be again. Like my family should be from a small place, because in my life, that's where families come from.
But then I start looking around for kids' haircut places online and get all caught up in some Sniparoo chain out by the mall where you pick from a menu of haircuts and they distract/ overstimulate/ snack your child into submission while they cut the hair. And I decide, "fuck it, we're going to Wayne's Unisex Salon on the big street across from Mrs. Winner's." And we walk in to a true, old-style beauty salon, where everybody's gossiping and sitting under helmet-dryers, and an old lady named Elaine pulls out a big padded booster seat so Birdy can sit in the special chair while she darts in and out of Bird's wee blonde mop with her scissors (with lightning accuracy for an old lady and a moving target, I might add), and everybody coos and pokes at Bird and makes a fuss. It might as well have been Littlesburg, Indiana, population 4000, where I grew up. And I think about the nice Egyptian guys that run the corner market and give me shit for smoking, and how I can walk to the post office, the grocery, daycare, and the library. And I realize I DO live in a small town, smack in the middle of this bustling city. And Birdy might actually get to be friends with a non-white child before college. AND I can buy beer on Sundays. So I'd say we're doing pretty well.
3 comments:
I am eagerly awaiting photos of Bird's new 'do.
Also, I had a dream that I forgot to post on Nov. 1, a few days before Halloween. That's just disturbing...to dream about failing before the marathon even starts.
Anyhow, I'm excited that you're joining up again! I'm tagging you for a meme, too, if you're interested :D
Very well said, ma'am. We are lucky over here on the east side. And the bumper stickers are right: WAY better than Smyrna.
You can buy beer on Sundays, but only after noon. Or as some people in these parts like to call it, "after church."
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