I cannot remember anything about that special Saturday morning, except sitting in Coon Anderson’s chair and Daddy explaining what needed to be done. I was five and had a head full of long curly hair.
When done correctly, according to my mother and grandmother’s standards, my hair fell in long ringlets. Getting it there, though, was often a morning of squeals, tears, pleadings, and threats.
The year was 1959, and we didn’t have the hair products used today to comb out the tangles. All they had was baby shampoo and Tame Creme Rinse. The ad promised no more snarls; but regardless, there was still much crying and quarreling.
Earlier that day Mom and Ranny, my name for my Grandmother, tried to brush and fix my hair so I could spend the day with my Daddy. They were going to Thomasville to do some shopping. It must have been extra bad that morning; because as soon as they were out the door, Dad put me in the car and drove me to his barber shop.
Daddy lifted me up and set me in one of the barber chairs. Mr. Anderson placed a cape over me and then combed my hair in two low ponytails. When he had them just right, he took his scissors and cut them off. Then he proceeded to give me a cute haircut–cute by his and Dad’s standards.
Ranny saved one of the ponytails in a Valentine Candy box, which still sits in her cedar chest upstairs in my guest bedroom.
Below are pictures of me before and after the memorable haircut.
I also remember the fuss later on that afternoon when both Ranny, who my Daddy’s Mama, and my Mom got home and saw what he had done. They lit into poor old Dad. The sparks flew.
I was already a bit of a tomboy, so I liked my new do; but the other women in our family were furious.
My Dad was in the dog house. If we had had one, I think he might have had to sleep in it.
That was my first memorable haircut, and I would get to go through this ritual many more times with my own children.
My girls had some memorable haircuts,too; but the ones I remember most were those right after Jamie went to a slumber party at a little girl’s house. Every kid there got head lice, and Jamie brought it home.
I didn’t know what to do initially, but I learned. I had never been able to get Tracy to sleep in her own bed, so she got them, too. Both of them had long, thick blonde hair; and we finally had to cut their hair into little short haircuts to get all the nits out. They were cute, but it broke my heart to cut their beautiful long hair.
Today, I get to live the haircut stories all over again, but through pictures this time. Both daughters have shared their stories about their children. I love getting the pictures of my Grandchildrens’ haircuts through texting and Facebook.
A blogger friend, Teresa at NanaHood just did a post on how to prepare for haircuts. Entitled “Tips for Your Child’s or Grandchild’s First Haircut”, you can read it here .
I would love to hear your haircut stories about yours, your children’s, or your grandchildren’s. Sometimes haircuts make for great family stories.