*Mila* asked us to take her to the salon for a haircut yesterday. So we did. Who wouldn't? We took her to a place in the mall I had been before and luckily after *Steve* refused the male 60 year old to cut her hair, they gave her a 20-something mom who stood not much taller than *Mila* and made the best companion for her haircut. Especially for the first time outside of sitting on the toilet seat while I cut it and mom-comb and mom-cut and mom-complain. Remember your mother combing your hair? Why was it always rougher than anyone else would do it? I asked *Mila* how the haircut went, as *Steve* stood with her and I couldn't see from where I sat. *Mila* answered "She was really nice and she combed my hair nice not like you mom!" See! Now I have joined the ranks of rough-comb-moms. Uggh. One day you're a teenager and the next day you wake up and you are combing your kid's hair roughly.
signed, the willow
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