Going to grandma’s was a ritual in my eyes, something new to learn or new paths to take.
Especially this time.
”Oh, won’t you come by. I’ve baked cookies just for you”,she pleaded innocently in my ear, she not say more.
I love cookies!
The day came and I contemplated whether to bring my haircutting kit with me for that was my profession.
Eh, I might want to tidy up my bangs if we go out to eat, I thought.
On the road again, I smiled at thought of grandma all the way.
She inspired me to become a hairdresser in my small town because she was one not so long ago.
I could remember when mom and me would enter that over-scented plain of existence; each day, a new haircut would top the dresser’s head.
And she wasn’t shy about it, from beehives to pixies; one time, we came in to a new her, a bald grandma.
She tried to get her daughter to sport the same style but was declined, neither did I receive the cut.
The farmhouse came into view and my granny hailed me with joyous greetings.
We talked for what seemed like hours, granny then spied my kit beside me and smiled.
”How long have you cut hair?”
”Today would be my first year as an active cosmetologist, why?”
She set down her teacup and rose.
”Let’s see how far you come”
I pricked up my head,”You want a haircut?”
“Yes”,she replied as she took up a chair,”Let’s do this outside, birds’ll clean up the mess”
I shrugged and went with her to the lawn for the setting of the process.
On the chair, she went and a cape that I had for emergencies was tossed over her.
”So, what are we thinking?” I queried as I brushed her hair that ended just past her shoulders.
”Uh”,she sighed,” You pick”
I was a bit intimidating about the prospect of cutting her hair to my liking.
Now, what style? She has tried everything under the sun, what hasn’t she done.
Come to think of it, I have never seen her in a Mohawk.
I used a comb to part her hair into three sections, securing two while leaving the other flowing free.
From there, I took my scissors and cut the free hair short, close to the scalp.
Grandma just remained dormant as I told her I was using no guard, only nodding in agreement.
Up and up the head went my tool, only stopping when its job was done.
I did the same to the other side, leaving the sides slightly wrinkly and mostly bare but I asked to make them skin-smooth.
”Its your cut, do what you like”,she assured me.
With that, I lathered what I wanted and finished the job.
For the top, I raised and trimmed it then let the piece fall to its length.
I suspended it again and sprayed hairspray in it to complete the tall look.
I handed her a mirror and the smile on her face showed her excitement.
”You like it?”
” I really like it”,she praised me,”I never wore my hair like this; good job”