Super Mom takes on the hair salon

So, Squakers (aka Ilya) and I decided to try to go to the hair salon to get super mom a much needed hair cut. As glamorous as it is always having my hair quickly thrown back into a ponytail, finding that rubber band in the mornings is just one more thing to worry about. I had decided to chop it all off. This is a huge step for me and I wanted to do it before I changed my mind. We arrived at the salon (a training salon none the less) with squakers firmly attached to my chest in the Moby. The 14 year old behind the counter wearing way too much make-up took one look at me – with stringy hair that hasn’t been washed in days, pants that are too big (yea, but it is hard finding pants that fit right now), spit up running down my left side, and a baby attached to my front – and coldly asked me who was going to watch the baby. Saying the word “baby” like it was some sort of disease. Luckily Squakers was sleeping or I would have had her practice her projectile vomit trick right then and there. “no one” I replied. “I figured I could hang on to her” I was just trying to get a hair cut after all. It wasn’t like I was going to run an obstacle course. “Oh, we don’t allow that.” “Why not?” “Its too dangerous.” I kid you not. This is the reason why a child is not allowed to sit on my lap while I get a hair cut. Its too dangerous. I imagined wayward scissors flying through the air accidentally stabbing innocent bystanders while harsh chemicals were being flung around like water in a wet tee shirt contest. Then I began to think. If this place is too dangerous for a child, what was I doing in such an establishment. We made our escape and returned home.