Just got back from Asher's first haircut. It went well, though the lady who owns the salon was WAY too uptight to be running a kiddie salon. When I made the appointment, she made sure to tell me that she runs on time and that 4 doesn't mean 4:15. Then when we got there, we were eating ice cream cones (stopped at BnR on the way there), and she said, "Oh, are you coming in here with those? I don't really allow food. I hope they don't drip..." Then while Ken was standing in the doorway finishing the last of his cone, Asher was starting to get fussy and I asked him to come in and help entertain. So Ken stuffs all but the very tail end of the cake cone in his mouth (no ice cream left in it) and goes to put that last bite in her trash. She runs at him with a tissue to wrap it in so the garbage can didn't get dirty. Oh my golly. We are SO not going back there!
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