Saturday 20 January 2018

Mum's diary: Hair today, gone tomorrow

Getting your child's hair cut can be traumatic, especially for Tammy Darcy whose husband threatened immediate divorce if she went near their daughter's beautiful golden locks!

MY only daughter Freya had been growing her hair for nearly six years and there was no denying its beauty. However, it had started to become an issue. Every morning, 20 minutes needed to be allocated to the brushing and styling of these golden locks. This meant 20 minutes of cream-curdling screaming by my poor child, and 20 minutes of eardrum battering for me.

Things were made even more complicated by the fact that we followed a strict infestation prevention regime. We lived in fear of her coming home from school with a head full of nits.

Her older brother had contracted them when he was seven and they were so hard to get rid of that we eventually took a pro-active measure and shaved his head. This might sound radical but we had to eradicate the problem at source.

And while this approach might be acceptable for a boy, if Freya suffered the same fate, she'd end up looking like Brittany Spears postmeltdown.

So, every day, before she left the house, her hair was twisted into an airtight bun on top of her head or – time permitting – a set of French plaits, dragging her eyebrows north and resulting in a 'Croydon facelift'.

The time had come to seriously contemplate removing a few inches in the interest of Freya's vocal chords and hair health, not to mention my sanity.

I had given it a sneaky trim on three separate occasions under cover of darkness. The reason for this is that my husband had informed me that cutting his daughter's locks constituted grounds for immediate divorce with zero spousal support.

Now I would argue that there are worse things a wife could do, but Mr D is literally in love with every strand of hair on his children's heads. The little golden baby curls that are still hanging on in there are precious to him. While the ends may be dried out and split, letting the curls go would signify that Freya was no longer a baby. He didn't seem to be ready for that yet.

Let me point out that he is, to put it delicately, lacking in the hair department. I feel that just as I envy those twenty-something girls who can wear hot pants, he might also be mourning a loss and that's the reason he feels so strongly about Freya's hair.

Operation trim!

So what to do? Should I cut? Was Freya's hair far too beautiful? Was it fair for a man to fulfil his dreams of a full head of hair vicariously through his child? Should I stand my ground and remove a few inches and hope he didn't notice?

In the end, I decided to get the hair cut. Four precious golden curly inches were released from captivity. And I am still married.

The deed was done as part of a covert operation. I waited until the enemy's eyes were averted and operation trim was executed.

My plan for cover was to plead ignorance as to where the missing inches had gone. Either that or blame Freya's two-year-old brother Zach.

Both approaches were flawed. Pleading ignorance was unlikely to work as my husband is a clever man, neither gullible nor naive enough to believe that the hair just disappeared.

Secondly, while two-year-old Zach is quite likely to attack Freya's hair with a scissors, the chance of it resulting in a perfectly straight cut are slim to none.

The deed was done, and I waited nervously for the fall out. My husband returned to the house, looked at Freya and said, " You look nice pet."

Sometimes you just have to take a chance and stand up for what you believe in, eh?

Tammy Darcy is a freelance writer and entrepreneur whose company Theclothesline. ie inspired her to write a blog. She is married with two children and is still trying to master the art of multitasking. Tammy's five-year plan includes getting a full night's sleep and seeing the bottom of the laundry basket!

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