She takes me to the hairdresser. She makes me sit in the funky animal looking chair. She makes me put an apron-like thing on. She holds me while this strange lady (who is vaguely familiar because they’ve done this before) sprays my hair with water and I scream. Then she lets this strange lady cut my lovely locks off despite the fact I like looking like a hippy.
I don’t care that it costs 2 to 3 times as much as a haircut in Australia… it’s just not playing fair!
(Mum: Oh – if all the problems in the world were as simple as getting your hair cut)
Note: No Mitchell’s were harmed in the process of getting this haircut and the frown and tears were easily solved once he got some chocolate afterwards. 🙂