Haircut
Momma's taking me to get my hair cut today. I don't wanna go. It's warm and dark underneath my bed and I'm playing hide-and-go-seek from Momma in my blankie with my dinosaurs.
“Honey, it's time for your haircut.”
Momma's in my room. I try not to breath loudly. Momma kneels down and looks underneath the bed and sees me anyways.
"Honey, it's time for us to go," she says kinda softly. “Okay...” I say. I turn away and close my eyes. Momma pulls me out from underneath the bed.
“Come on, dear, we need to go.”
“I don't wanna...”
Momma sighs. “If we don't go right now I'll pour a glass of water on you.”
Momma did that once when I wouldn't get up to go to Church. I was mad all day. Momma said Daddy and God wouldn't be happy with me for being mad. That made me madder. Momma paddled me when we got home.
“Fiiiiine,” I say to Momma and throw my blankie. It's a big blankie so it doesn't go far. Momma reaches down and takes my hand and leads me outside. I close my eyes and put my face in her skirt. It's thick and rough and I feel her leg on my face. I follow Momma's leg until I hear our feet on the stones where the car is and I hear the car door open. Momma lifts me up and sets me down. The seat's hot.
“I don't wanna go, Momma,” I say. I think about crying.
“It'll be fun,” Momma says. She buckles me in. Momma doesn't put me in a plastic chair like other Mommas. Momma always told me to sit down real low when we were at Church so people didn't see me without a plastic chair. None of my friends liked their plastic chairs. The seat's still hot. It's wrinkled and soft and dark red. Momma closes the door and sits down on the other side of the car and makes the car start.
“Make it vroom, Momma!” I say.
Momma smiles and makes it vroom.
“Vroom vroom Momma!” I get really excited and start kicking my feet. I watch my feet kick for a while. I pretend I'm kicking a bad guy.
“I'm kicking a bad guy, Momma.”
“Cool,” she says. She doesn't even look at me kicking the bad guy.
“You're not even looking, Momma,” I say.
She looks over really fast. I kick a bunch for her and smile.
“Awesome!” she says.
I keep smiling.
After a while the car stops moving.
“We're here,” Momma says. Momma gets out and unbuckles me and takes me inside a building to a lady at a big white thing in the middle.
“I have an appointment to get my son a haircut,” Momma says to the lady. She tells her my name. The lady makes some clicking noises from the top of the white thing.
“Yep,” the lady says, “It'll just be a moment. If you'll just have a seat over there...”
Momma takes my hand again and leads me over to some chairs. She sits me down in the chair next to her and picks up a big thin book with people's faces in it and starts looking through it. She looks at it for, like, forever.
“Momma, I'm bored,” I say.
Momma doesn't say anything.
“Momma,” I say louder, “I'm bored.”
Momma still doesn't say anything.
“MOMMA, I'M BORED,” I yell as loud as I could.
Momma puts her book down. “Shush,” she says.
I hold my arms out and Momma picks me up and puts me in her lap. She rubs at my shirt.
“You've got drool all over your shirt,” Momma says. She's smiling a little. She tickles me. “You've got drool all over your shirt!” she says again. I laugh and squirm.
“She's ready for you,” the lady says.
“Time for your haircut,” Momma says to me. She's still smiling. She stands up and carries me over to a chair. Momma sits me down in it and leans down in front of me and takes my hands and plays with them.
“Look here,” she says. “Look at your hands.” I look at them. She takes my hands between hers and flattens them like airplanes. “Look at them fly all over the world,” she says. I smile wide and kick my feet.
Then I feel a buzzer on my head. It feels weird. Momma tries to stop me from looking at the buzzer. “Look here,” she says. “Look at your hands.” She makes them fly some more. But what if the buzzer cuts my head? I bleeded from my head once. It hurt a lot. I don't wanna bleed. I start crying.
Momma puts her hand on my face. “Shh-shh-shh-shh-shhhh...it'll be alright, darling. Everything will be okay.”