>The responsibility of grooming Cj usually falls on me. I love taking him to the saloon so I don’t mind a hoot even without a helper in tow. My thai is terrible. What I say to the hairstylist gets addled and I have to put ex on the phone to save Cj from looking like a practice mistake. His second to the last haircut was a disaster. I either brush up my thai saloon language or find a stylist that understands at least a bit of English. I did the latter.
When cut badly, Cj’s hair grows like the way JK Rowling describes Harry Potter’s hair. Only Cj’s must be worse. It’s so bushy on top sometimes I feel like grabbing my kitchen scissors and just mow off the bush. Last week I took Cj to Kidkut for his second haircut in less than two months. This time I didn’t ring the ex. I was shown a catalog at reception and I told the stylist to just tame my son’s hair. Tame it; as in give it a lesson!
My cousins once joked that if Cj threw a bad mood, the explana- tion is simple: It’s an aftermath of global warming. To me it’s his hair. I’m glad this guy (or gay?) is so fast and efficient. I hardly was satisfied with these phone shots and he was almost done.
It was Cj’s 5th birthday last Saturday, so I call this his birthday haircut. I booked the 4 PM slot at McDonald and I was happy to see him go through his party minus a bouquet of carabao grass adorning his head.
Happy Mommy Moments, Mommies!
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