Shorn

Dear diary,

This morning Mummy took me to the hairdressers with her. I was to sit quietly with my book and behave, Mummy said. I didn’t think her hair needed cutting but she said it was starting to look like a bird’s nest. I asked if that might mean birds might come and lay eggs in it and then we could eat them for tea, which Daddy found very funny.

I don’t get my hair cut when I go with Mummy. I go to the barber when Daddy goes. Mummy says it’s much cheaper to do it that way. The barber is nice to me but loud and smells of cigarettes and his fingernails look like yellow spades. He keeps saying one day he will give me a short back and sides. This sounds like a threat to me, diary. My back is still growing and I don’t want it shortened. And why do I need more sides? Does he mean like a dodecahedron? We’ve been learning shapes at school with Mrs Tranter.

There sure is a lot of noise coming from the kitchen. Maybe Mummy didn’t like her haircut. It’s not the plates’ fault though.

Anyway, back to the hairdressers. I took two books with me, one fat one and one thin one in case I got bored of the fat one. Turns out, I got bored of both! Luckily there were lots of magazines in the waiting area. I started reading one with a beautiful lady on the cover and there was an article about positions he likes in the bedroom. It seemed to be the steps of a complicated dance routine where you’re not wearing any clothes which is weird as the rest of the magazine seemed to be trying to sell you clothes. Sal who is the new lady in the hairdressers with pink stripes in her fringe tried to keep putting other magazines on top of the one I was holding, about celebrities and houses and foreign countries, but I wanted to read about the bedroom dancing some more.

Until Sal gave me a freeze pop! That was really kind of her. The grown-ups at the hairdressers drink coffee or fizzy wine and I’ve tried both and they’re both YUCK. The freeze pop was nice because it was a nice hot day. My fingers got sticky and I was too scared to pick up the magazine again, so I just sat and watched stuff.

Everyone was busy talking and washing hair or talking and having their hair washed or changed colour and everywhere was the snipsnipsnip of scissors and ROAR of hairdryers. It was funny I was bored you might say with all that going on, but it sort of melts into one big noise. Then a very loud man came along with a tray full of coffees from the shop across the street which I thought was weird because they had their own coffee in their little kitchen, didn’t they? Oh well. The hairdressers got very excited when they saw the man and what he was carrying. I thought he was the husband of one of them but turns out he worked there too as he asked the receptionist if his customer had turned up. He stood with his hand on his hip and his hair was a bright yellow. He wore very tight trousers!

I guess the customer had forgotten their appointment, as the man wandered right into the middle of where everyone was and got down on his knees, gave an exaggerated squeal and raked his hands through his hair. It was like he would rather be an actor than a hairdresser! I liked him, he made being there funnier and like I was watching a TV show or something. I caught Mummy’s reflection in the mirror and she was rolling her eyes at me. I guess he was what she called, “one of those”. I asked her once one of what and she said I would find out when I was older.

The man said he was bored and I hope Mummy heard because then she might not tell me off for when I say I get bored going with her to the hairdressers. It always seems to take FOREVER and her hair hardly looks different after, just a bit shinier and maybe a few teensy weensy millimetres shorter but Daddy says we have to make a fuss and tell her it looks nice.

I can hear Mummy swearing now downstairs. I guess she really doesn’t like her hair. I didn’t notice much had changed so I don’t see why she’s upset.

Anyway, back to the man in the hairdressers. He started playing on his phone (Mummy always says it’s rude to do that when you have company but I notice she didn’t say it to him). One of the lady hairdressers asked if he was texting Sean. That was funny because that’s Daddy’s name! It made Mummy twitch and I saw her hairdresser place her fingers on her head like you would do with a dog when you’re training it to sit. I don’t think Mummy liked that, but she didn’t say anything.

Daddy’s name is pronounced s h o r n like what sheep get but it’s written as though it should rhyme with bean. I won’t spell it out for you because I’ve already written it up there look.

The man said yes it was Sean and one of the other ladies asked how many dates they had been on now. The man held up his whole hand with his fingers spread out and all the ladies went “ooooh!” and the man looked very happy. Mummy’s face looked like it does when she smells eggs that have been laid by our dog Maisie. One of the ladies who had a lot of drawings all over her body and a ring in her nose asked if Sean was going to pick him up in that big old show off Lexus with the lights underneath again and the man said he should hope so given the amount of time it took him to get ready for going on dates with Sean. He said Cinderella didn’t want to ride about in no pumpkin and he’s right about that I guess although Miss Pitman who is our English teacher would say it’s bad grammar.

It’s funny the lady said about the car though, because that’s the same car Daddy drives! With the lights underneath and everything! Only Mummy doesn’t like it when he puts them on. She says he is an embarrassment and spent a lot of money having something called a mid-life crisis. I looked at Mummy to see if she’d heard all the stuff about the car and that but she had a faraway look in her eyes like she was remembering something. Her hairdresser lady had to call her name three times to get her to look in the mirror to see her hair reflected in the smaller mirror the hairdresser lady was holding up so she could show off what she’d done (not much by the looks of things).

Mum was very quiet on the way home. She sure is making up for it now though, with all that clattering and banging and rude words though!

But wait – there’s my favourite sound! Daddy is scraping his boots on the mat as he’s come home at last. Yay, Daddy’s home!