Haircuts

I was going to have to start putting Graham’s hair in pony tails it was getting so long, and Julia’s was down to the small of her back and getting unwieldy for me to manage, so we dubiously followed Bob to a random salon he’d found in an underground mall near the Town Hall metro station.  I thought, “How bad could they be?”  Ha ha ha ha ha ha.  They were adult hair cutters after all, they couldn’t be any worse than the Cozy Cuts people in New York, or, the people who couldn’t get jobs at the grown-up hair salons so they carve out a niche cutting hair in front of Thomas the Train videos.  

The woman who did Julia’s hair just sat her down and started cutting.  I said, “Oh, don’t you want to wet it down a little first?”  “Oh, noo,” she said in a thick Thai accent, “Not necessary…”  Ok, I said, silently calculating how long this was going to take to grow out.

She cut it about an inch too short because Julia’s head only went up to the back of the seat so her hair was laying across the chair top and she couldn’t tell how long it was.  Two times I had to come over and readjust her in the chair so her hair could hang straight down for the woman to see it.  

Suffice it to say I think they were the worse haircuts of their lives.  At least their hair grows as fast as their little bodies -- I'm pretty sure you can actually see it happening if you were to concentrate long enough.