Brooke loathes getting her hair cut. I wasn’t going one more day without it.
While she was still excited over reserving her new Pokémon game at Game Stop that comes out this Sunday, I took the opportunity to slide into Great Cuts.
She said she was fine with stopping there since I have done so many good things for her, that she kind of owed me that.
You could only imagine the look on her face when the beautician asked if I was getting my haircut. “No, she is!” Brooke’s head whipped around, wide eyes, that narrowed into squints that didn’t need words! All I could do was laugh!
She thought about it for a moment and agreed her Game Stop excitement still fresh.
There is a reason I do not go to regular salons with female beauticians. They are annoying as a dripping faucet in their idle endless chatter. My appreciation of Tim, who cuts my hair, is now magnified!
This beautician was sweet enough, but I was over hearing how spoiled she is being the only girl in her family. She no longer lives at home, but feels entitled to call her parents whenever she needs something bought for her and they do.
She has no idea how immature she is sounding. She proudly states she is a “daddy’s girl”. Here is where her naïveté is about to shine …
“Are you a daddy’s girl or a mommy’s girl?” she asks Brooke. Here we go …
Brooke looks at me, it’s only been 2 ½ months and I respond quickly … “Brooke’s dad just passed away”.
Tears pour down Brooke’s face. She jumps up from the chair sobbing and stating very loudly, “Why did you say that?!”
A moment to be expected in our situation. The pain in her expression is my undoing. We battle heart to heart over a very painful topic we are still learning how to deal with.
Both of us standing face to face, in tears, in this fresh wave of the pain of loss, I said to her, “I said it so you would not have to!” She shouts back, “I can handle that question!”
Brooke is right. She could have handled that question and would have said that she is a mommy’s girl. She always has been. Both of my girls are. Except, Mariah sure is a Papa’s girl, too!
Her haircut was almost done. Both of us caught in the moment, my tears for Brooke’s tears streaming down her face. The beautician says, “Please stop, because now I feel bad”. I wanted to reply, “Could you shut the hell up now!”
Note to self: Tim will now cut Brooke’s hair going forward.
I explain to Brooke again, in the car, why I intervened on her behalf, so she wouldn’t have to say those words.
Brooke wants to be alone and storms to her room for much needed alone time. I give her the space she needs.
Poor Mariah didn’t know what happened when we got home. I explained. She cried for Brooke.
Brooke comes out hours later when she feels she is ready, walks right up to me and hugs me saying, “I’m sorry and I understand”.
Life is healing. Brooke and I are going to have these moments. They come so unexpectedly. We will learn to deal with them heart-to-heart her, me and us three.
