We had an attempt on Friday to get Daisy’s first hair cut. I promised Daisy just a little trim – quick, no fuss and lots of fun and chocolates and prizes involved (great parenting I know). Let’s just say that things did NOT go well, and I fear that she will never let me get near her hair again.

I built up the idea on Friday morning as we had the day together. I promised a little bus trip together to Broadway to the shopping centre there. I promised smarties, and a present of her choice once we were finished. The kid was all talk: “Yes Mummy. Fun Mummy. Bus Mummy. Hair cup Mummy”. When we got there I thought that the planets had aligned for me – there was an Andy Pandy ride out the front for her to go on. Then, when we got into the shop there was a TV on with her favourite movie of ALL time Ice Age on. Nice. Then when we went to sit down, she even had a Wiggles cape to put on. Then, well let’s just say that she just lost her shit at me. At the poor hairdresser (although she even looked a little scary to me – she was one of those hairdressers that thinks because she is on the cutting edge of hair that that means she has permission to have a mullet/lion mane hairstyle with far too many colours in there). Daisy made it perfectly clear to me, all in the shop, in fact all on level 1 of Broadway shopping centre that she would, in fact, NOT be getting her hair cup (how can I not laugh when she says this?) then, or ever. So I scraped her off the floor, laughed a little nervous laugh, apologised to all and went on our merry way.

I think that next attempt might just be me – I mean it’s just a trim at the back – surely I can manage that? Right?! Or perhaps we will book in here because it just looks like it may be able to pull the wool over our little ladies eyes…

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