"I got 'em all cut"

***Blogging note - In case you haven't already noticed, despite my best efforts my attempt at posting every day for thirty days has not panned out. Although I have done better than my past posts at once every thirty days, it was certainly a goal too ambitious. My ego is certainly not big enough to think that people were waiting with baited breath for a post that never materialized, however I thought I should make mention that I am aware of my shortcomings. Let the sporadic blogging commence***

It only took 17 months, but Zoe seems to have acquired a pretty attractive head of hair. The early photos on this blog do not do her hair justice, but for anyone who knew her as an infant remembers a tiny baby with shaggy, sparse, sometimes spiky hair. As she grew, her hair took on a Donald Trump-like persona (without the bank account to go with it) complete with the clockwise swirl surrounding a bald spot in the back. Her bangs keep growing down in her face so I have been known to cut it myself. The problems with this idea were many, not the least of which were that Zoe wiggles and moves like she is sitting on thumbtacks, the scissors I used couldn't cut melted butter, and I don't know how to cut hair. The first time I did this, Mike was at work. The next morning before he laid eyes on his daughter the conversation between the two of us went like this:
Me: I cut Zoe's hair yesterday.
Mike: You cut it?
Me: Yes.
Mike: Does it look stupid?
Me: Yes, but it looked stupid before and now it's not in her eyes.
Mike: Good point.
So, this past week I felt it was time; time to get a professional on the case, one who was licensed in this sort of thing and that carried scissors that could actually, well, cut stuff. I found a salon geared specifically for children right in our own backyard. The brightly decorated kiddie salon was outfitted with probably ten TV's all with cartoons on and hair cutting chairs that were either a spaceship or Barbie car motif, akin to the rides outside of grocery stores. Falling smack into gender expectations, we chose the Barbie car but made no special requests on cartoons. I found myself quite jealous as I pay a fortune to get my haircut with none of these luxuries. The woman worked swiftly with quick sprays of water and speedy scissor control. Zoe did awesome, like it was her job. And the results, beautiful! The Don has left the building.