the kitchen

Growing up, my dad was our hairdresser.
All of us got haircuts at home, in the kitchen.
Even our friends would come by for a trim. Emily! Darla!
I didn't visit my first hair salon until college.
But even now, I will still head to the kitchen for a new cut.
Or just cut my hair myself. It's not that hard. I've seen how dad does it. :)
So, as soon as my parents returned from San Francisco yesterday,
literally, as soon as they walked in the door with their suitcases...
Dad got one look at Ewan and agreed something needed to be done.
We set up shop in the kitchen to fix Ewan's hair.
As mentioned in the previous post, he got the worst haricut the day before!
Relief. It's so much better now. And I've learned my lesson...
Ewan is much better off heading to "the kitchen" when the shag needs a cut.
Thanks Papa G.