My girls had their haircut appointments recently, and Zoe and I got busted trying to pull one over on Avi. It was a haircut gone bad.

I always schedule their appointments back to back, so we’re able to knock them out in one sitting. They usually fight over who gets to go first, and this time, Zoe won. Avi and I decided to drop her off, drive to Target, and be back in the amount of time it would take for Zoe’s haircut.

We were impressed with our efficiency, and commented on how smart we were to make the most of our time. We got in and out of Target without any problems, and were back at the salon early. We were rock stars.

I dropped Avi off outside the salon, told her I was going to pick up dinner, and I watched her go inside. I was getting it all done, making it happen, being the efficient Mommy society tells me I want to be.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” I said, “And I can’t wait to see your hair.”

I picked up dinner, and was back shortly. I walked into the salon, and noticed Zoe was still getting her hair done.

“Avi, you haven’t even started?” I asked her.

“Nope,” she said, in a grumpy teenage girl voice.

I quickly spoke to the hairdresser, and Avi switched seats with Zoe. The problem was, Zoe had to be at school for a choral concert, one we all were attending, and time was running out. We had just enough time for Avi to get her hair cut, but not blown out or styled.

“Don’t worry about straightening her hair,” I said to the hairdresser, “It’s raining anyway. Just let it go curly.” Avi glared at me as I said this, because she wanted her hair to be styled. Of course she wanted to have her hair done, I totally understood, but we didn’t have time.

Twenty minutes later, we were in the car and on the way home for a quick dinner and change before the concert.

“Your hair looks great,” I said to Avi, trying to distract her from the fact that her hair was almost sopping wet. I could tell she was upset, and looked like she would cry at any moment.
“I love when you wear it curly,” Zoe said, taking cues from me, and trying to smooth things over. This went on for about five minutes. We showered Avi with compliments, until finally, she’d had enough.

“No you don’t. You’re both just trying to make me feel better because I didn’t get to have my hair finished. All because of this silly concert I don’t even want to go to. But, don’t pretend to like my hair.”

Zoe and I looked at each other and then laughed. We didn’t mean to, but we couldn’t help it.

Avi was right, we were trying to pull one over on her, just to make her feel better. She should have gotten to finish getting her hair done. Sometimes, plans get messed up, and a haircut has to be cut short. Literally.

I should have been honest with her. I should have apologized. I should have told her the truth. By the way, I despise the word “should.”

I learned my lesson: Don’t schedule hair appointments when there’s a choral concert, and always be honest, even when it comes to hair.

Find meaning each day,

Dara

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