We got our hairs did.

What do you do when you are at the beach, have a husband around to watch the kid and it’s not such a great day, weather-wise? You get your hair did!  And so that is what I did.

You may recall, last October I decided to treat myself, you know, for giving birth and all, and got the Brazilian Blowout.  Five days after I did that, some silly report came out that said that stuff had formaldyhyde or some such cancer causing agent. Whatever. I loved my hair all straight and not frizzy like a clown. And it stayed that way, until maybe about two months ago.  Not too shabby when you think about it. But then I started to notice I was using my straightening iron a lot more, and having to blow dry my hair while the despot screamed at me from whatever restraining device I had placed him in. So I made an appointment to have it touched up. And then I had to cancel that appointment. And then I never rescheduled. Because, you know, the kid makes it hard to sit around a salon for 4 hours getting pampered.

But then we were on vacation.  And Kase was around to play with the kidlet. And so I jumped in the car as fast as I could to go to the salon near our beach house.  And the great thing about getting it done in Maine, mid-week? I had the salon all to myself and the owner did my hair using the Keratin Complex by Peter Coppola. The owner was Jim, and he was awesome. So awesome, I may consider the two hour drive to get my hair done by him next time I need it cut again. But anyway, my hair is nice and straight now, like so:

Oh, you see my pal there?  He gets his wavy/straight hair from me. You’re welcome, little man. Oh and that wasn’t my salon. That was the salon, called Snip-Its, we took Colin to get his hair did. It’s a kids salon with great stylists who in my opinion, should make more than celebrity stylists for how quickly they work and how well they avoid snipping off baby ears. Colin has been a sporting hair that is a mix between Joe Biden and Donald Trump. Either way? Not a good look. For a boy anyway. I’m not raising a miniature Tom Brady. Or worse, David Beckham. There will be no headbands on boys in my house. Awww, no. So I’ve been lobbying Kase to agree to take Colin to get his haircut since I have been told now three times how beautiful my daughter is. SAY WHAT?!! OH NO YOU DI’INT! So we took our little despot to get his hair did. And he had a pretty good time.

They started with bribes:

I love the certificate they gave him at the end- he really was brave, considering the amount of around-the-ear-work the stylist had to do. He’s a real handsome devil now- though, he was one before too. I’m just glad I don’t have to put his hair in barettes now. Tom Brady could learn a thing or two.

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