Like a bubble, this memory is. Thankfully, it doesn’t pop.
I’m in my room, cramming all my hair products – as many as a
regular 5 year old would have of course – into my basket of clips and
hairbands. Every colour possible in the rainbow can be found in my little
square plastic basket. But of course, the majority had to be pink! Pink pink
pink!
I giggle as I rush out of the room and set my little basket
on the single settee. I then drag the wooden stool that has been kept in the
living room especially for such purposes of which I was about to start to the
centre of the room. I was a bundle of energy, anticipating what was about to
happen. I turn on the television and set my eldest brother on the wooden stool
and ask him to stay there. I pass him the remote and run downstairs.
I grab a small bowl from the just the right height cupboard
and tip toe to fill it up with water from the sink. I then quickly start up the
stairs. Well, as quickly as I could while holding a bowl of water filled to the
very brim. I then set the bowl of water gently on the floor and bring the
basket of “tools” over.
I thought when I was younger that I wanted to be a
hairdresser. Why? For this very reason: I picked up the bowl of water and began
splashing it onto my brother’s hair with my tiny hands. Picking up my scissors
that were placed amongst my hair accessories I began to snip away what I felt
was unnecessary to my brother’s head. (of course, the scissors were plastic and
could hardly cut clay, so no worries, i did not bring any harm to my brother.)
Then, when I was satisfied, I would begin to place all sorts
of things to “glam” up my masterpiece. Continuously adding water onto my brother’s
head, I place clips here, there, and here as well; tying little bundles and
tufts of hair together.
I can’t quite remember what happened after that. But I remember
it happening often; me becoming a little hairdresser. I just thought it was fun
and games back then. But when I think back, it was amazing how my brother who
was 7 years older than me could tolerate me for that long.
And every time I am reminded of that memory, I smile.
this is a true story, from my real memories, with my real brother. (:
i hope you guys enjoyed that.
thank you Tai-Kor.
love,
Jess.
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