Annika has been begging for months for a haircut that is as short as her dad’s. Yesterday I finally took her to the local walk-in place in our neck of the woods. The weather is warming up here, so of course the salon was hopping. I think it is a true testament to how much she wanted her haircut that she was willing to wait 40 minutes before she even got into the chair. While we were waiting, she spotted a picture of Michelle Williams on the cover of some celebrity magazine here and told me, “like that Mama. I want my hair like that.” Here is a link to a similar picture. We chatted about what was going on around us and exhausted my German hair salon vocabulary when we were checking out the tools of the trade. (I didn’t feel too bad, since my English vocabulary for this stuff is also very lacking!)
When she finally got to sit in the chair, the
overly tanned and made-up 40+ lady in shorts with tights very
nice stylist asked me to explain what she wanted. I told her and showed her the picture. The conversation from there went something
like this (but in German):
Stylist: Are you sure that you want it that short?
Me: Yes. That’s what she wants.
Stylist: I just don’t want anyone to be crying when it’s done.
Me: No tears. I promise. She’s been asking for this cut for a while.
Stylist: You REALLY want to do it that short?
Me: Yes, really. I talked to her about how it will grow back if she doesn’t like it.
She started to cut her hair and I stayed where I could watch and smile encouragingly in the mirror as it was happening. This prompted the stylist next to her to say.
Stylist #2: You’d better be perfect. You’re being observed very closely. (She then pointed at me.)
Me: Am I not allowed to watch?
Stylist #2: No no, it’s fine.
I kept watching, and kept smiling like the cheesy Midwestern American that I am.
When the cut was done, Annika jumped up and declared that she loved it.
We walked to the bakery to celebrate with a Pfannekuchen filled with Kirsch (basically a donut filled with Cherry compote instead of jelly and covered in powdered sugar).
When Ani woke up this morning, the first thing she said to me was, “Mama, I love my haircut!” This made me very very happy and slightly less worried. She skipped all the way to school, and was blissfully unaware of the taunting from the other kids about her hair. The taunt they used here:
“Did your Mom make you cut your hair?”
Really kids, you hang out with Annika 5 days a week and you think I could actually make her do something? Hahahahahahahaha! I’m not that delusional.
Small note to my brave first born daughter:
I am soo proud of you and you amaze me all the time. I know grown women who cry every time they get their hair cut 1 inch and would NEVER be brave enough to get a short cut like this. You are awesome-sauce and I wish I could be more like you.