Our three year old daughter announced at around 10am this morning, that she really wanted a haircut – it was an emergency, now, now, now… please…!
In light of the fact that she has been ill recently and flopping around the house for days, I felt I could sympathise. I also know that when one decides to have a haircut, you do tend to want it done, now, as soon as possible, that day – no other day will do, my hair is simply awful and has to be seen to immediately – at least that is how I feel when my hair needs cutting.
We trundled off to the nice hairdresser who was not busy and based in one of Nairobi’s big shopping centres. She is a fellow kindergarten mum, Kenyan and a bit of a friend. My daughter said that she wanted her white baby hair washed too – her every whim was catered to. The hairdresser and I chatted about schools gossip and about how thin and whispy my daughter’s hair is. The hairdresser gave my daughter a proper blow dry with a big round brush. My daughter ended up looking like a little old lady whose hair is teased out and set, standing out proud in a fluffy round bonnet, usually in order to mask any hint of thinning or baldness.
My daughter was pleased and admired herself in the shop windows as we left. Mission accomplished.
In addition, I thought I would mention that the guinea pig is still alive. We have had a few close calls with our dogs, where the guinea pig made a bolt for freedom from the triangle shaped run that my husband knocked together one weekend, (which has a small design fault, in that there is no door). The guinea pig headed for the nearest bouganvillea bush unaware of perils around and scuttled underneath. We ‘rescued’ him/her much to the small rodent’s great disappointment I am sure.
There was also the time when I heard some frenzied barking in the garden and found that one of our alsatians had ganged up with the terrier mix and together they were trying to break and enter into the run. The alsatian was bleeding from her nose having poked herself on the chicken wire.
The sight of our three girls fighting over who holds the guinea pig next (this happens constantly) was almost too much for my mother-in-law to behold. She was sure that the dogs would get it within hours – a tragedy waiting to happen.
In the meantime, one of the groundsmen from the kindergarten made a luxurious cage for it a couple of months ago, with a very smart and useful rain roof. When it is really bucketing down though, my eldest daughter cries and says her guinea pig must be frightened, so we have to run out and carry the whole, large wooden box into the dry.
The cage is so spacious that I thought I might go mad and chuck in a baby rabbit too – that was until my sister told me that you cannot keep bunnies and guinea pigs together… not sure why.
I notice that ‘Wife in the North’ is blogging about guinea pigs too, so the subject is obviously de riguer.