Well, today, I finally splurged and took Beatrix to get her first real haircut. That cute little bob of hers has been gradually getting harder and harder for mama to maintain. She's got thick hair! Now that I sit here and type about it, it's been close to year that I've known that my trimming skills could not keep up and that she really needed a cut by someone who made a living doing it...
Poor Beatrix, what a deprived little girl she is. Wink, wink, nod, nod.
She held the steering wheel of her taxi cab chair with a white knuckled grasp and tried desparetly to focus on the screen above her playing Shrek. She's never seen it before. She did not seem amused. I think her mind was elsewhere.
She kept still and got an even cut. It's a little shorter in the back than we were all anticipating, but that had much to do with Beatrix's previous hairdresser's screw-ups.
Though, quite honestly, I am now wondering about the legitimacy of the howls and yells I zone out to each day when I brush her hair. Yes, I am gentle and yes, we use detangler and yes, I start from the bottom. Still, there can be lots of tears and noise. Yet today, she did not flinch once when the hairdresser was combing out knots which leads me to one of two conclusions: she was either holding it together - freaking out on the inside, or knots really don't bother her.
That Beatrix, she is known for her drama - (and her cute do).