Big Girl Haircut

Yesterday, I took my son, Dakota, to get a haircut. He is 9 1/2 (don't forget the 1/2) and recently decided that he needed a "real" haircut. Not one of those quickie hack jobs at a kids' place painted with primary colors and loud Kids' Bop tunes. My girlfriend, Meg, suggested I take him to Les Mages in our little downtown area where she takes her little girls and herself for haircuts.

Audrey's (she is 6 1/2) eyes glistened at the 2 well placed, large crystal chandeliers. You know, all girls love anything shiny and "spar-ki-ty" as Audrey says. As Dakota was being transformed from his Zac Ephron-esque mop head to a Chace Crawford chopped top, Audrey insisted that she, too, get a cut. "OK," I said, "Just a trim though," remembering her desire to have short bangs like all the girls in her class. She's always had a shag of random waves and occasional curls. They blow in the wind and become a veritable bird's nest. We brush them out several times a day. I just couldn't do the bang thing. I love the glory of her face and the gleaming smoothness of that young forehead. It makes you want to just kiss it every time you see her!

I watched as she got her hair scrubbed and combed. I tried to eaves drop on her discussion with the stylist whom I had warned about our "no bangs" rule. Of course, mainly I was struggling with trying to force Dakota to keep the sound turned off on his Nintendo DS. After all, he was the one who wanted to frequent a "real haircut place," and I can assure you, the lady getting her roots touched up had no interest in listing to Mario Party 8. Or was it Kirby Superstar?

Before I knew it, Audrey was getting her first blow out--in a salon with a French name and TWO chandeliers no less! The smile on her face was beyond priceless. She had reached the pinnacle of beauty treatments for 6 year old girls. She announced that she was "now a wheel big grr." (She has speech problems and can't say"real" & "girl" very well, but that is for another blog.) I blinked once, twice, three, maybe four times. I caught my breath & hugged her tightly. It was as if Father Time decided to run a marathon. I could see her little body, her grubby chocolate hands, & her mud stained pants, but her face and hair looked so much older, refined, & smooth!

She's been bit by the blow out bug big time! I woke up this morning to the sound of my hairdryer in by bathroom blowing a hurricane. Without looking, I knew what was happening. She had my big round brush and was doing the best she could to smooth out the damages of bed head. It was then I knew: I've lost my little, scraggly head girl forever. It is one of those bittersweet moments. You want them to grow but just not too much!

She told me she wasn't going back to our regular kids place again and she couldn't wait for her friends at school to she her big girl style. "They gowna be so surprised, Mom. My hair is so pwetty! I wheelly a big grr now." Sniff! Sniff!