Tuesday, 23 March 2010

Heir


What with all the babyhood and remission going on around here ... my hair accidentally grew long.

It's time to get it cut. AND a colour, thanks to another year older. I would never get it cut short-short. My mother made me get it cut short when I was 14 years old. I sat in the chair while the hairdresser was ordered to cut it all off. I had no say in it, no voice. The hairdresser was nice, swung the chair around and looked me in the eyes. "Are you sure you want it all cut off?"

I always felt strange when an adult would look me in the eyes, I wasn't used to it. Like, they thought I had something of value to say or something. Odd.

These days I'm teaching Max that it is important for him to be heard, in the world. In shops I pass him the money and watch as he goes and makes the purchase. I'm interested in how the adults in his circles treat him. I'm probably hyper-sensitive towards the power imbalance between adults and children. But whatevs.

I would never make Max cut his hair if he doesn't want to. He recently grew it scraggly and it all stuck up in funny places. Dave and Tim were on his case but I told them to leave him alone. Max eventually decided to get it cut, so I took him.

It's his hair. He is the boss of it.

So anyway, I will never ever have short hair again. I looked SO UGLY. I even got booted out of the cool group at school, lost my "pretty" standing. True.

If I'm ever blessed enough to get to be an old lady, with lines and veins ... I will wear my hair long. Pissy grey plaits. Maybe even some red ribbons.

That was my favourite hairstyle, as a child. Two gloriously thick, deep red plaits.

People would always ask me where I got my red hair from. I would tell them the truth. "From my dad. He was Scottish." Mum would talk over me. "Her grandfather."

After a while I'd tell people that the red was from my grandfather. Until I grew up and left home. Then I would tell everyone I met about my dead red-haired Scottish dad and nobody would shoosh me.

_____

So. Haircut tomorrow. Some kind of sleek style that will last about three weeks. It won't be short, though. Maybe even a fringe?

Whatever I want. It's my hair. I'm the boss of it.
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