Two little suggestions from two little girls

May we have your attention for a moment or two?

We, the daughters of the lady who writes at The Coffee Cottage, have two suggestions that may serve you, or, even more so, a little girl friend/daughter/niece of yours. It will become quickly evident that we write from personal experience, not book or word-of-mouth knowledge.

Suggestion #1:

If your mother is not, has never been, nor has any real experience as that of a licensed hair professional and confidently informs you she is going to give you a hair cut, be very, very scared. Gather your wits, do not saunter, but rather SPRINT for your LIFE. We realize that this may not be in line with the respect that ones parents might be trying to raise you with, but certainly someday both you and her will have a few less regrets as you look back over old photo albums. 

Usually this kind of home hair-cutting is a result of a cycle of kitchen-stool stylists that was born in generations past. Legends of old speak of small heads of perfectly pretty hair sheared off in the shadow of the bowl atop their little skulls, set there for a cylinder-like guide by which to align their shaky sheers. There have been those, my very own mother being one of them, who watched in their Goody hand-held mirrors as their mother put a straight line of scotch tape across the middle of her outgrown bangs by which she felt the cold steel of the hair cutting sheers find their way across her forehead. Straighter bangs have there never been, than those cut by the line of Scotch Tape.

With a this in her history, you would think she would NEVER  consider getting within a 200 mile radius with a pair of rainbow-handled Clairol Hair Cutting Sheers sold at Target. But for all their love and good (time & money-saving) intentions, this is the price I have to pay for simply being born into this lineup of compulsive 'do-it-yourselfers':

And she didn't even have the courtesy to a. dry my bangs before cutting and
b. use scotch tape (not that any of this needs to be pointed out).

Gratefully, I possess an amazing ability to pretend I don't know notice or care
and even posed for a picture before church. I figure my day will come. There will come that time when mama is sitting in her room at the Christian Convalescence Center, snacking on her Puffed Wheats strewn on her wheel-chair tray...and the nurse will note that her bangs need a little attention. I will remember how expertly she cut mine, and will do just the same for her, followed up with a tight rod perm. She'll look so lovely.

Suggestion #2

In case your mother ever thought (before or soon after she began having children) she might possibly someday perhaps write a book on parenting, simply do all that you can to prevent her from coming up with any kind of pat "solution" or "4 Steps To...Plan".
Be a delightful, daring, exasperating, enormous bag of contradictions during every.last.waking.hour. Who knows, you alone might propel her to a National Spokesperson for Clairol Hair Coloring Inc. for all the gray she's had to cover as a result of having the honor of being your mama.Give her opportunity after opportunity to seek out the One who made you for ways to channel your energy, direct your (oh-so-strong) will and stay one step-ahead of your cleverness.

Stay a force to be reckoned with and along with it, enjoy being absolutely adored and loved for your spunk and the spice you add to life. (Almost forgot! Stick some crayons in your pocket in case there are boring white walls at church that need your touch. Wear your mama's white pearls to throw off investigators when looking for the crayon 'artist').

In childhood, we press our nose to the pane, looking out.  In memories of childhood, we press our nose to the pane, looking in.  
~Robert Brault,


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