Sorting the Mop

I do not like going to the hair dresser, never have, never will.  I don’t find it particularly relaxing, I could be doing something more productive with my time rather than sitting drinking coffee under very bright lights in front of a very large mirror making small chat with a stranger.  Just me?

Thanks to a home dye kit and the summer sun I have been rocking (or not) an orangey, grey striped, brown rooted look for the past few months.  Crunch time was the other week when I had my hair scraped back in a pony tail and Miss Sassy informed me that my hair was a weird colour and I looked really, really old.  Honestly if you ever need an instant confidence boost just come on over to our house.  I told her that it wasn’t grey or white it was silver sparkly hair, that seemed to make her happy, I went from old mama to magical mama in one sentence, boom!

It was all well and good me wanting to sort the mop out however I had no clue where to go.  If there is one thing that I dislike about this military wife life it is finding a hairdresser.  I last visited the hairdresser in June before we moved here.  You see finding a doctor or dentist is easy, I say that I still haven’t registered for the dentist.  Finding a hairdresser……bleurgh that’s comes under can’t be ars*d until the situation is desperate.  With the Mess Christmas Party round the corner I would say that is was getting pretty desperate.  Luckily my neighbour, Double H, had done some research and found a hairdresser.  Taking one for the team she booked an appointment and it was a success.  Not only did she get a lovely shiny new hair do she also got a recommend a friend discount, yes thank you very much I will have that. 

I didn’t phone to book an appointment because I had no clue what I wanted.  To be honest I’ve never had a clue when it comes to hair.  So, one morning after the school run I popped into the salon to ‘have a chat’.  For once I wasn’t in my active wear with my hair scraped back, probably a good thing, first impressions and all that.  Well, if I said the receptionist was well groomed that would be an understatement.  She gave me that look, you know the one, oh here we go harassed Mama who has let herself go, a paid-up member of the Bograt Society.  With an overly sympathetic look she asked me if I had an appointment.  Looking back my response may have been just a little bit over dramatic, I sighed and simply said I need help.  Well, that’s when 2 stylists whisked me off to sit in front of a very large mirror under very very bright lights to scrutinise the mop.  They brushed and parted and tugged at my hair as they discussed how to ‘fix this’, come on people I can hear what you are saying just because you give me a strong coffee it doesn’t stop my ears working.  Anyway, after what felt like forever, they came up with an action plan.  Like a deer in the headlights or rather a desperate mama in salon lights I agreed to it and booked an appointment.

On Monday it was the day of the appointment.  You will be pleased to hear that the mop has been well and truly sorted, the orange has gone, the split ends have been snipped off and the hair styled.  Despite the mirrors and the bright lights it was a fairly enjoyable experience.  This is mostly because they didn’t talk to me and I was given coffee and those yummy biscuits in the red wrapper, don’t know their name but bloody love them.  I used Double H’s discount card which would have given me a fair whack off the bill but then the stylist mentioned Black Friday deals.  Yep, you guessed it I was sucked in and ended up buying colour maintenance products.  No more orange here people, nope none at all.

Anyway, after over a decade (wow that’s a long time) of dying my hair, I’ve decided enough is enough.  Now that the mops been sorted, it’s about time I stopped dying it.  I am always telling the kids to be themselves so it’s about time I listened to my own advice.  From now on it’s all about the silver sparkly hair, after all, we all need a bit of sparkle in our lives.

Author: charliefoxtrotmama

Mama to 2 kids and an Army wife. Life’s a cluster but it’s all part of the adventure. This blogs about the highs, lows and hilarity that come with being a Mama and an Army wife. If my waffle helps someone realise that it is life that is a bit bonkers not them, and to smile when it all seems a bit sh*tty, well, I’ll be happy

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