Thursday, May 8, 2008
Close to Nowhere
Never send a man...
• Pop took Remy, our youngest granddaughter, to get her hair trimmed Tuesday afternoon. The girls and their mom left Wednesday for Lexington, Ky., and Remy just “had” to have her hair done (she’s ten, going on 31 -- her older sister is 12 going on 45).
Never send a man with two little girls to a hair salon!
Pop got specific instructions before we all left the house Tuesday morning -- both girls knew exactly what to tell the hair stylist. Believe me, those two know exactly about lots and lots of things and hair style is one that they know more about than I do!
Pop’s instructions were: 1. take the girls into the shop; 2. let the girls tell the stylist what to do; 3. wait patiently; 4. pay for the haircut and don’t forget to include the tip; 5. it’s over, bring them home.
By the time he got the girls into the salon, I’d had three phone calls. He wasn’t crying in any of them, so I wasn’t too worried.
Remy has had long hair since birth practically. There was the one occasion when she was about three or so -- she went into my sewing room (the door was closed to keep her out -- it didn’t work), got my sharpest, biggest scissors and cut her gorgeous, long, honey-colored hair to the scalp on both sides of her head. Fortunately, both scalp and eyeballs were safe!
She was so proud for a little while. But it took forever to grow back long again and she was adamant that she was never going to get her hair cut short again! Ever! (Amy, our hair stylist, had to cut it very, very short to fix the poor little scalped head.)
Girls do grow up rapidly and for a while now, Remy has wanted her hair shoulder-length, like her big sister’s. As an amateur barber, I’d cut about six-seven inches off a few weeks ago. Now, when it’s time for them to go to Lexington and see friends from all over the country, Remy thought that her hair needed a professional touch. And she was right -- professionals do it much better -- no matter what “it” is.
• The toll from the “Paducah Plague” continues to grow -- my sister Jackie in Missouri, so far, is the only one of the original bunch to have not been sick.
To date: me, as the first; both granddaughters, son and daughter, husband, Jane’s sister Katy, Jane’s husband Butch (Jane and I both have a husband Butch and a son Chris/Kris), Jane and Butch’s neighbor, finally Jane and now, my friend and neighbor down the road is incapacitated.
I personally don’t think it’s fair that I was sick first. It took about ten days for me to feel like a human again and to be able to look at food without gagging.
No one had time for sympathy for me though -- they were all busy being sick themselves. And now, all everyone wants to talk about is how sick they were/are.
I’m still waiting on my sympathy. All I got was from Jane...
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