Bang Bang
Yes, nearly a week. I am a dreadful blogger, but I know you'll forgive me considering it is my first lapse. So much has happened, but I haven't really been up to writing about it, so here is one of the more minor bumps in the Thanksgiving holiday.
Gasp! Horrors! Oh my goodness! What have you done?!? Stop the World! It’s coming to an end! You are evil! Call DSS!
You may be wondering what I did to deserve such over-the-top, though slightly exaggerated (not really), protestations of shock. Well, I will tell you. I. CUT. BANGS. INTO. MY. DAUGHTER’S. HAIR. Are you faint? Do you see the world ending? Well I didn’t either.
But then you have to know my ex-husband. Since you don’t, I will tell you. He hates bangs. But you probably already got that didn’t you.
Thanksgiving morning, I gave Audrey a bath, and I could take it no longer. I was sick of seeing the poor child struggling to keep the hair out of her eyes and I was sick of being in a constant barrette deficit. They never ever ever ever return from daycare. She always comes home with a strange ponytail holder or ribbon in her hair, but long gone is the barrette I sent her in. So that was that. I got out my paper cutting scissors (what, my hair cutting scissors have disappeared), sat Audrey on the bathroom counter and proceeded to chop at her hair while struggling to keep her still to prevent a Thanksgiving Day Eye Gouge-Out fiasco. She was delighted at the hair that fell from her lap to her head, and I remembered to do the mom thing and tell her that she was never to ever even think about ever even thinking about cutting her hair with these scissors or any others. Satisfied with her “Yes, that’s right. Only mommies cut Audrey’s hair” and the way the bangs turned out despite the shaky hand and the disjointed chops, I turned her loose.
She received compliments from all around about her new ‘do and was as proud as proud could be. I accepted the compliments for the job that I had done, but mentioned the fact that Sam didn’t know that I was going to do it. The consensus was that until Sam grows his hair out and experiences the torture of constant hair in the face, it wasn’t up to him. I demurred, but uneasily so.
Saturday I dropped her off at Granny’s house to spend time with paternal family. I hadn’t really seen any of them since The Split, most unfortunate was my lack of a hospital visit to see Granny after her car accident. What can I say? I am a horrible self-involved person who just really didn’t feel like interacting with the in-laws. Didn’t I divorce them too? Yeah, yeah, I’m horrible. Sue me. So they oohed and aahed over her hair as well and I reiterated my fear over Sam’s reaction, and thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t to be around him when he saw her hair for the first time.
The next morning he called. It was before 7 and I was still asleep, but I padded out to the building’s outer door where he stood waiting with Audrey. I was still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes when he started in on me about her hair.
I can’t believe you did that. You know how I feel about bangs. I would never do something like that without your knowledge....
And on and on. I cut her bangs, people! I knew it was coming – sort of, but still it seemed a mite unreasonable if you ask me. But I will ask you.
Was Sam’s reaction to the bang thing logical?
Gasp! Horrors! Oh my goodness! What have you done?!? Stop the World! It’s coming to an end! You are evil! Call DSS!
You may be wondering what I did to deserve such over-the-top, though slightly exaggerated (not really), protestations of shock. Well, I will tell you. I. CUT. BANGS. INTO. MY. DAUGHTER’S. HAIR. Are you faint? Do you see the world ending? Well I didn’t either.
But then you have to know my ex-husband. Since you don’t, I will tell you. He hates bangs. But you probably already got that didn’t you.
Thanksgiving morning, I gave Audrey a bath, and I could take it no longer. I was sick of seeing the poor child struggling to keep the hair out of her eyes and I was sick of being in a constant barrette deficit. They never ever ever ever return from daycare. She always comes home with a strange ponytail holder or ribbon in her hair, but long gone is the barrette I sent her in. So that was that. I got out my paper cutting scissors (what, my hair cutting scissors have disappeared), sat Audrey on the bathroom counter and proceeded to chop at her hair while struggling to keep her still to prevent a Thanksgiving Day Eye Gouge-Out fiasco. She was delighted at the hair that fell from her lap to her head, and I remembered to do the mom thing and tell her that she was never to ever even think about ever even thinking about cutting her hair with these scissors or any others. Satisfied with her “Yes, that’s right. Only mommies cut Audrey’s hair” and the way the bangs turned out despite the shaky hand and the disjointed chops, I turned her loose.
She received compliments from all around about her new ‘do and was as proud as proud could be. I accepted the compliments for the job that I had done, but mentioned the fact that Sam didn’t know that I was going to do it. The consensus was that until Sam grows his hair out and experiences the torture of constant hair in the face, it wasn’t up to him. I demurred, but uneasily so.
Saturday I dropped her off at Granny’s house to spend time with paternal family. I hadn’t really seen any of them since The Split, most unfortunate was my lack of a hospital visit to see Granny after her car accident. What can I say? I am a horrible self-involved person who just really didn’t feel like interacting with the in-laws. Didn’t I divorce them too? Yeah, yeah, I’m horrible. Sue me. So they oohed and aahed over her hair as well and I reiterated my fear over Sam’s reaction, and thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t to be around him when he saw her hair for the first time.
The next morning he called. It was before 7 and I was still asleep, but I padded out to the building’s outer door where he stood waiting with Audrey. I was still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes when he started in on me about her hair.
I can’t believe you did that. You know how I feel about bangs. I would never do something like that without your knowledge....
And on and on. I cut her bangs, people! I knew it was coming – sort of, but still it seemed a mite unreasonable if you ask me. But I will ask you.
Was Sam’s reaction to the bang thing logical?
posted by The Narcissist at 1:52 PM
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