Oh, I see how it is.

I will probably regret it, but I'm going to give Benjamin his first haircut...at home...without the help of a trained professional. Yes, I am one of those mothers who is going to try to save a buck at the expense of my child's hair. I figure Benjamin was nearly bald for a good portion of his life, so even a bad haircut would leave him with more hair than he'll know what to do with. I'll try to trim just a little at a time so that if it looks really terrible I can still bring him in to the salon and have them fix it. I'm sure it will be fine. I do have some experience in this arena. I cut my bangs and the dog's hair too and I've only messed those jobs up a few times. Osa never seemed to have much psychological damage from the experience, so I'm sure Ben would handle a bad haircut just as well.

I'm on the hunt for some scissors now. Even though I'm not a pro, I've decided not to use the scissors from the junk drawer for Ben's haircut. I can be pretty cheap, but it seems wrong to use the same scissors that cut out boxtops for his hair so I stopped by a beauty supply store this morning. I unloaded Benjamin from his car seat and lugged him into the shop. When I walked up to the front counter there were 3 girls standing behind it, all dressed in cute clothes, all made up. I did not receive a smile or a hello or a "how can I help you?" from any of them. I decided to start the whole customer service exchange by saying, "I'd like to buy some shears. Could you help me find some?" to which one girl replied, "We're wholesale and we only sell to licensed cosmetologists and stylists." How did she know that I wasn't?!?!? I used the word shears for crying out loud. That doesn't sound like the kind of word a licensed professional would use? So how could she assume that I was not? Oh, I see how it is. Yeah, okay, so I hadn't showered, my hair was in a pony and there was no make-up on my face...my baby's nose was running and I'm pretty sure he had just rubbed it on my shirt when I got him out of the car, but there's no way she could have definitively known that I wasn't a licensed professional. I simply held my head high and asked, "Do you know of a place in town where I could purchase shears (yep, I used it again)?" She looked down her nose at me as she muttered the name "Sally's". She said it with such disdain it's as if  the name left a bad taste in her mouth. "Thanks for your time," I replied as I walked out the door. And thanks for the tip. I will go to Sally's. I will go to Sally's, the place that welcomes unkempt stay-at-home moms who are trying to save a buck. I will go to Sally's and spend my money there, and when my son is rockin' his super sweet new hairdo and everybody asks me where I bought my scissors I will say "Sally's" and they will all go there too. Deal with it.