The Big Hair Let Down

The day before Aubrey turned 3, I had finally convinced Daniel to let the child get her haircut.

I was so excited to take Aubrey and see her with a new 'do.

A friend recommended taking her to Wendy's Treehouse for THE first haircut. It's a children's salon in the back of a kids clothing store. Wendy (hence Wendy's Treehouse) has been giving haircuts to little munchkins for ages and still charges what she did way back when. Shampoo + Cut + Style = $10!

I had been talking up the whole haircut thing with Aubrey for several days, but every time we talked about it she just honed in on the name...Wendy's Treehouse.
Our conversations usually went like this:
Me: Aubrey, two more days until your haircut! Are you SO excited?!
Aubrey: Is it really going to be in a TREEHOUSE?!
Me: Well, I don't think so...
A: Is it, Mom? Is it going to be in a TREEHOUSE?!
Me: I doubt it, honey.
A: But it's called Wendy's TREEHOUSE, Mom. Do you think it's going to be in a TREEHOUSE?

Finally the haircut day arrived -- she looks pretty excited, right?
Hey Mom, I think it's going to be in a TREEHOUSE!


It just so happened that we were able to schedule her appointment for a Friday evening. Daniel wanted to be able to join us on this momentous occasion, but as with most Friday evenings Aubrey and I were pacing by the door waiting for him to get home. Finally, he arrived without a minute to spare, and off we went!

When we arrived, it was quite apparent that it was not a treehouse.
MAJOR let-down for Aubrey.

Then we discovered that Wendy was running behind, and we proceeded to wait 30+ minutes.
(That's 2.78 days in toddler time, in case you didn't know.)
With each passing second, Aubrey became less and less thrilled about the impending haircut.
Daniel and I were starving -- we thought we'd be elbow deep in our favorite Friday night pizza by this point.
I needed to pick up Aubrey's birthday cake (this was the night before the Robot party, mind you).
Things were starting to unravel.
As you can see...

(Sorry about my gum chomping...I had just put in a piece to curb my ravenous hunger.)

Just as I was about to go and tell Wendy we would just need to reschedule for another day, she announced that she was finally ready for Miss Aubrey.

"Okay Aubrey, let's get your pretty hair washed!" Miss Wendy chirped.

Um, this is the part where I tell you Aubrey isn't a huge fan of having her hair washed.

You may want to turn down your volume.

After the traumatizing shampooing, things were still looking grim.
(Sorry Aubrey, looks like you inherited my "not a pretty crier" genes.)

Aubrey finally mellowed out after a pink sucker, a Baby Einstein DVD playing, and lots of calm persuasion that death was not imminent.

Now, as much as Aubrey dislikes having her hair-washed, she's downright petrified of the hair-dryer. Wendy decided to french braid her wet hair to let it dry naturally instead of completely scarring Aubrey from any future haircuts -- and honestly-- I think the poor woman's nerves were totally shot by this point. We were all just ready to get the H-E-double hockey sticks out of there.

I did, however, think Aubrey's tear and snot-stained face looked quite precious staring in the mirror once it was all said and done...

Aubrey pranced out of there with her typical dramatic flair.
And within no-time had the braids fully dismantled.

After the tears and theatrical performance, I can't even tell the girl got a haircut.

At least I have physical proof that it did actually happen.

I think next time I'll just "accidentally" leave a pair of scissors out and see what happens.

Just kidding...

maybe. :)