This is Nicholena. She works at Pump Salon, which is where Mom gets her haircut. After putting a booster seat in the chair, and sitting me on it, she wrapped a huge apron around me.
Next, she spent a long time looking at and running her fingers through my bangs.
Then she pulled some hair straight out …
and cut!
I was very calm.
After Nicholena was done, Mom insisted on gathering some locks off my apron. Dad thought this was really strange, but Mom and Nicholena said all parents do this. My locks are in a small white envelope in mom’s jewelry cabinet.
Dad drove me home (as it was already past my bedtime) while Mom stayed to finish having her hair done. All the way home I talked about my haircut.
The next morning, when Mom got me out of my crib, the first thing I said was “haircut?” and pointed to my hair. I still talk about it. And can’t wait for it to grow again so I can go back.
“Babies haven’t any hair; Old men’s heads are just as bare; Between the cradle and the grave; Lies a haircut and a shave.” —Samuel Hoffenstein
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