There is this urge, when largely preggo, to recklessly hack off one’s hair in an attempt to feel like a new, non hippo-shaped person.* I have been suffering from this desire for several days now. Luckily, fortune, and a stylist named Ryan, intervened and prevented me from getting my “Lt. Kara Thrace” haircut this afternoon.
I walked into a very fancy salon and up to the nicely tailored man behind the counter. I was dressed in yoga pants, a sweater, and no make-up. He asked me what he could do for me, and I told him. “I am 5 months pregnant, and I need my hair to be something more than a giant mop hanging off my head.” He looked me up and down, said “congratulations” and told me Ryan would take care of me at two. He then asked a very thin pretty woman to take my information down and seat me with tea and cookies while I waited.
I contemplated my short new ‘do’ while waiting, and wondered what Lee was going to think about the loss of my golden locks. I was eventually led to shampoo, and relaxed further while Jessica washed my hair. Why is it that simply having someone else wash your hair can be a transformative experience? Afterwards, I was led to a chair and introduced to the man who would shore my head.
He asked me what I was looking to do, and I told him. He then said no. I paused for a moment, and said “you won’t cut my hair?” He told me, “I will cut your hair, but every time a pregnant woman walks in here, she wants to hack off all her hair, and everytime she comes back, she hates it. I will work with you to cut it into something stylish and sexy, but I will not cut it off.”
I contemplated his comments and slowly began to realize that he had been placed on this earth to prevent me from shaving my head in my fifth month of pregnancy. I agreed to his terms and emerged from the salon an hour later with a great haircut.
Much better than a highly short boy cut inspired by a fictional female soldier in outer space. Thank the PTB’s for Ryan.
(* Before anyone posts to tell me I do not look like a hippo, I want to explain my comment. You see, when a hippo lays on it’s back in the water, you can only see it’s face, it’s feet, and it’s belly. When I lay on my back in the water, you can only see my face, my feet, and my belly. Therefore, I feel as though I have a lot in common with a hippo at this point in my pregnancy. Besides, they are kind of cute.)