Today was odd from the outset. Phil and Syd had already left for the day when there was quite a lot of commotion coming from the bathroom, we were either being burgled by someone in boxing gloves, the dog was attempting to master the art of using the toilet or something had upset Joe (my money was on the latter)
Minutes later Joe bursts into our room fully dressed, head down and charges towards the mirror. He is muttering under his breath and doesn't so much as look in my direction. After looking in the mirror his muttering intensifies to full blown ranting, peppered with a bit of mild cursing. He is facing away from me however I can see the focus of his agitation seems to be his hair, he is pulling it and tugging at it brushing it this way and that. He'd had his hair cut the previous evening so I can't understand what is upsetting him so much. (It looked alright the previous evening)
I say his name a couple of times but he acts as if he hasn't heard me. I obviously need to get to the bottom of this.
So he's muttering and swearing and I have literally no idea what on earth is going on with him. I say his name and he ignores me, so I shout his name.....
He slowly raises his head and turns round, and I finally see the reason why he was so distressed.
DURING THE NIGHT HIS HAIR HIS HAIR HAS FORMED INTO A MASSIVE BEEHIVE!
All of a sudden the swearing and the distress seem completely understandable. There on top of his head, is what can really only be described as a beehive. The front is swept fashionably to one side however the crown is a good 4 inches high giving him the look of a giant human torpedo. I turn away to compose myself (laugh hysterically) and then I turn back towards him and tell him I'll sort it out.
What follows is 20 minutes of swearing (me), screaming in pain (him) and more hairspray than is good for anyone. Nothing makes a difference. If anything I have teased the beehive to a good 6inches now, he wouldn't be out of place as an extra in heartbeat.
I suggest that he wears a hat for school which doesn't go down at all well.
I text Phil for advise:
Me: Disaster! Woman at hairdressers hasn't cut Joe's hair right, hair has now formed into giant beehive. Dunno what to do
Phil: Take a photo?
Bloody useless! The only solution is to call the school and tell them he'll be in late and take him back to the barbers and demand they cut it properly. So that's what I do!
School: Hello Pupil support
Me: Hello this is Joe's mother, Joe will be late this morning because its highly unlikely that his enormous bouffant hair will fit through any door in your school
School: Oh dear. Have you considered offering him as an extra in Heartbeat?
Me: Yes I have. I'm taking him for an emergency beehive-ectomy. I will bring him to school once his hair has returned to a normal height.
School: Thank you and if you wouldn't mind could you take a photo...
(I told them he had a headache and would be in once it had gone. To be fair by this point we both did, so we had a cheeky glug from a bottle of calpol 6+, just to cheer us up)
So I return him to the barbers. As we enter (Joe needs to duck to allow his 'hive' through the door) the shop grinds to a halt. There is a stunned silence til someone starts to hum something by Dusty Springfield.
Anyway it transpires the woman who cut Joe's hair is currently on trial (she should be), and it would seem that although perfect at the front and back she has overlooked the crown. We accept their complimentary haircut and goodwill chubba chup lolly and I return Joe to school.
All this by 9.30am. I only have one regret.
I didn't take a photo.