Haircuts are a funny thing we never gave any thought to before quarantine life. I have been rocking the mom ponytail/bun/half up, half falling out style for many years now, so I am not in any danger of cutting myself bangs or thinking I know how to do fringe. However...my children are apparently very healthy and grow hair like gorillas on steroids. So we are learning new skills, my husband and I.
He used the clippers on our seven year old son - with pretty decent results. His bang line is a little somber - a very serious straight line. Apparently he doesn't want to learn how to do fringe either. But Baby Boy is a little bit of a serious child so he was pleased with it. Our teenage daughter dyed her hair a pretty pink color that washes out. Our teenage boy is refusing to let us touch his hair (he may be the only smart one here, time will tell) and is instead taken to wearing his hair in a little waterfall ponytail on the top of his head - like we used to do to Baby Girl when she was a toddler. Baby Girl has decided to dye her hair blue, but Amazon must not believe hair dye for almost six year olds is essential because it is taking a pretty long time to get here. Her plan was to cut her hair and dye it, but with the delay we went ahead and bobbed it today - and she is ecstatic. Which is great, because it was a pretty 50/50 shot that I was going to blow it and make her cry buckets of tears. So now Baby Girl is bobbed, Baby Boy is happy and serious, and our teenagers are rolling with it. One more covid hurdle jumped.
Today I packed up my to-go bag of covid essentials: hand sanitizer, face mask, sanitized pack of disposable gloves, and giant container of sanitizer wipes. I loaded it into my used-to-be-a-soccer-mom minivan with the two teenagers and we headed off to bleach/sanitize mailboxes and stair railings at mine and Brent's parents house. They live across the street from each other - so I just wandered between houses with my arsenal of virus fighting tools and wiped stuff down while my kids assembled patio furniture for my dad in the backyard...wearing masks and avoiding touching anything. Then we sanitized the entire deck, all the new furniture, and everything we possibly could have touched outside all the way back to the mini-van. If felt....surreal. Like a weird sci-fi movie. My mom waving through the front door as I wiped down her door handles. Having to second guess every thing I may have touched. Wearing masks at my childhood home. Feeling guilty and furtively glancing around like we were skirting the law. This is such a very strange time.
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