Wednesday, 18 February 2015

Guest Post: "I took him for a haircut..." by Caroline Saunders of The "Hood" Club

I'm a mum of two gorgeous little boys, 3 and 6 months - both pickles in their own right.

My husband and I moved to Australia about 18 months ago where we have been lucky enough to establish some good rootes and we are starting to feel settled. We are both originally from the South East of England, Kent but left in search of a more outdoor lifestyle which we have certainly found here.

My husband runs a tour business and I am writing a children's book whilst continuing my hobby of writing poems and parodies for adults. I'm hoping to maybe publish some of them in the future so "liking" my page may help me when selling myself to potential publishers or magazines if I ever take my poems down this route.

The main aim however is just for people to be able to read my poems and laugh at life. Those with kids can laugh with us and those without can laugh at us. Because laughter really is contagious. Let's brighten up Facebook and the struggles of parenthood.

Join "The Hood Club" and smile today!

I took him for a haircut...

I like to think
I can cut my sons hair.
But my hubby informs me
I'm not quite there.

"Look I did layers.
Doesn't it look great?"
"It looks like a pudding bowl."
"Don't exaggerate!"

So I drove to the hairdresser
through stubborn gritted teeth.
My son was so scared
he shook like a leaf.

"This will be fun.
Let's cut your hair!"
My son looked straight at me
With a horrible glare.

The first hurdle was
getting him in that big chair.
How should I entice him
to sit nicely there..?

"Here's a lolly.
and a little iced bun."
Then she plunged at him with clippers
on a number one.

"Erm...Stop! What ya doing?
I asked for a trim."
The panic rose up me
and really set in.

"Just short at the side please
and still long on top."
Hair was now sticking
to my sons lollipop.

"Mum it tastes yuck!"
He let off a sneeze.
I tried to distract him
with my front door house keys.

His hands looked like yetties
from where the hair stuck
to his young sticky fingers
just my rotten luck.

So I pull out his iPad.
"Look, Ben and Holly"
That worked so much better
than a sticky old lolly.

A pang of guilt hit me
as his locks hit the floor.
An emotion unexpected.
One I couldn't ignore.

Was it an attachment
to my sons golden hair?
I'd made each one of those
and she didn't even care.

She kept on chopping
and I felt quite ill.
To my surprise
my son sat so still.

He marvelled at his reflection.
Proud of his new hair.
Beaming with joy
and hardly a care.

A success in the end
I rather suppose.
"That's 25 dollars please"
I stood there and froze.

25 dollars?
I think that's a lot...?
And he'll only get bed hair
when he wakes from his cot.

But I paid the money
and ran out the door.
Dreading the time
I would visit once more.

Copyright (c) Caroline Saunders

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