I loved cutting my kids hair when they were young.
I could bribe them and stick them in front of the telly while I snipped away. No, I didn’t quite have the gift, but I did really enjoy the creative activity.
It also gave me a chance to really look at them, to cherish every angle of their face and features, and to hold and caress their curls in my hand.
I knew those moments would never last, so I savoured and enjoyed it for as long as I could.
Until Husband put his foot down, feeling more embarrassed about my masterpieces than the subjects themselves.
I thought that lockdown would allow me the opportunity to resume my latent gift but the crafty spouse always knew when restrictions would be announced and got them shaved just the day before the barbers shut.
But not this latest one! I managed to get one trim for all of them (they were really quite good too!) but have now been forbidden to take up the shears until the end of time. 😭
I’m going to have to find other ways of getting my creative fix, and I guess making bad drawings of them would suffice. 😁
