Some Children Annoy Me

May 5, 2008

WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?! — a phrase I long to say sitting in the salon waiting room this morning.

The cause: Two pre-adolescent boys, typically oblivious to the facial expressions of the adults around them. One boy, with freshly washed hair, repeatedly shakes it like a big dog just in from the rain. Dots of water and overly-priced hair product splatter the pages of my book.

His companion, when not punching and pinching, vigorously rubs an inflated yellow balloon on his dry hair, the static crackling as he slowly pulls it away from the upended strands.

I should be entertained and amused, but I came here to be pampered and reflective, so I am annoyed.

Then in the back of my mind, the words, Whoever accepts one of these little children, accepts Me…   So, now I am annoyed with being annoyed.


While curing my freshly browned roots under the dryer and reading my book, I catch out of the corner of my eye a woman in her early 30’s, appropriately aproned and freshly cut, twirling around and around in her salon chair as she awaits her stylist for the blow dry.

I think she gets it.

I wish I had that balloon.



One comment

  1. Hey Amy,

    I found this one to be both amusing and insightful! That said, I would not be a good friend at all if I didn’t point out that it’s been a long time since you’ve posted and that it’s just this sort of cathartic activity that keeps the likes of us going in the midst of the madness; so write, dear friend, it’s good for the soul! No need to publish – S

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