Bridget's First Haircut - Memories of My Memere

Back in June

Mom went upstairs.

Children were crafting

with safe scissors.

Laundry lured me.

It deterred me.

When I made it back

down the stairs,

I found a house

sprinkled throughout

with tiny bits of yarn.

As I began to scold,

Patrick looked up.

This is what I saw:


He was proud and smiling.

I knew this day would come.

They all do.

I wasn't prepared.

"You cut your hair?!"


"No, Bridget did. Doesn't it look great?"
Yes, Bridget takes after my Memere...

The hair dresser.

The hair dresser who always wanted curly hair.

So much that she'd get in trouble at school

in rural Canada, for going to bed

with curlers in her hair.

She didn't care.

After lights out

She kept curling.

She curled her hair and her clients

for many years.

She would just love Bridget's curls.

I scolded .

This is nothing to smile about.

I didn't realize it right away,

but Bridget cut her hair, too.

I can smile now.

Hair grows back.

Scissors are hidden.

Only with constant adult eyes.

and stern warnings.

Paper only.
Yarn only.
No hair.
No clothes.
::Sigh::