On Saturday I spent a little over four hours sitting in the Cosmic Hairdresser’s chair while she stripped color and then proceeded to whack off a majority of my hair while chatting on about the precarious balance of the universe. I was a bit unnerved when she finally proclaimed my hair complete; my initial thought was that I looked like a seriously deranged soccer mom with streaks of white snaking through my very short locks. But after sleeping on it and playing with some hair paste, I have come to terms with my new hair and although I am by no means a M.I.L.F., I do feel a bit more sassier than before. For the most part other people’s reactions to my new do have been raving. My co-workers love it. My mother and brother have championed my change. My daughter loves it. The only people who have expressed dismay are my sons.
Yes, my two mama’s boys are at a bit of a loss as how to deal with this change. When I picked Devon and Cass up from their dad’s place yesterday, Cass could not stop raving about the change. At first Devon seemed excited and he said, “Oh, Mai-Mai! You cut your hair short.” But then he turned down the corners of his oversized mouth and got in the car. On the way I home I asked him if he liked my new hair and he very matter of factly repiled, “No. I no like you new hair. I no like you white hairs.” Oh. Ouch. But I did ask his opinion and at least he was honest.
Last night Loren got home from a long weekend in Boulder with his friend. They got home late but even in the dark Loren realized something had, dear god, changed. “Uh, mom? What happened to your hair?”
I explained that I had gotten it cut and changed the color. “Why? You just got it cut. And what was wrong with the last color?”
I then informed him that I hadn’t gotten my hair cut in over three months and that the last color was an unfortunate mishap with a box of Garnier. “Well, I liked the last cut and the burgundy was really nice, Mom.” Of course he was implying that the current length, much shorter, and the current color is not nice. Sigh. Oh well, can’t win them all.
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My boys are the same way– I am growing my hair back and they are happy about that. They don’t think I should have cut it to begin with. They don’t believe I’ll actually grow it back, either.
And mine don’t really like the fact that I am fat.
I’ve recently gone darker and shortened the layers up. I’ve gotten mostly compliments, but this bossy old Israeli lady that I work with told me in her sharp accent, ‘Change it back. It’s too harsh. It’s two shades too dark for your face.’
Maybe she and your boys can open a contrarian beauty salon.
I’ve recently gone darker and shortened the layers up. I’ve gotten mostly compliments, but this bossy old Israeli lady that I work with told me in her sharp accent, ‘Change it back. It’s too harsh. It’s two shades too dark for your face.’
Maybe she and your boys can open a contrarian beauty salon.
Im not speaking to you about your hair.
I’ve almost always worn my hair as short as possible except for times when I’ve procrastinated on cutting it all back off.
Now it’s all back off. I haven’t changed the color for some time but it changed its own color from very blond to white without my even noticing.
I tell the girls that it’s my head and my hair. Of course now they say the same thing to me. I can’t win.
Pictures?