The disadvantages of having a single child shared by two adults are many (though still less than the number required to convince me to have another :P). What makes them even more pronounced is that the two adults in this case, me and the husband think very differently and agree on absolutely nothing. Since Pari is still too young to have a free will, at least in matters which do not involve colours,cartoon characters and food, we attempt to impose our choices on her. The husband wants to take her for rock climbing while I wish to enroll her in swimming classes. The husband wants to buy her a football team tshirt with some 'Messi' on the back, with a name like that I am sure he would have messed it up big time, while I like buying nice strappy frocks for her. You would agree, it is not exactly a pleasure to have your most-beautiful-to-your-own-eyes daughter mistaken for a boy so often, all because she made a wrong choice at the foetal stage and took her father's nose,forehead,eyes and lips. And when it comes to a hair cut, there is no consensus at all. I want to get her hair cut and the husband wants to keep it long.
The fault is not entirely his, we have just 2 acquaintances who have girls Pari's age and both have chosen to keep the children's hair long. And while the little girls do look gorgeous, I personally find it difficult to handle long hair rooted on such small heads. Besides, I really don't think it is all that important to look good, at this small age or any age for that matter. For me, it is always convenience that gains precedence over appearance, which kind of explains my own inability to look good. So this time, when Pari's hair grew long enough for her to pass off as Mowgli(who she loves to bits), I insisted on getting a decent hair cut while the husband wanted to tie it up. We had long and tedious, sometimes violent discussions over it, but all in vain. And then I took the Gandhian route of non-cooperation. I refused to wash/oil/comb/touch the child's hair till it was cut to a manageable length. It worked like a charm. The battle was won, but the war continued. This time on where to go for the hair cut. Some of my loyal readers, if not all 4 of them, might remember this post where I lamented how Pari hates salons, and how I, being the dutiful mom that I am, manage to cut her hair myself. I was confident enough to argue that no matter where in the world the husband takes her, my baby would not let a stranger touch her head and come back running to Mumma's exclusive salon. I couldn't have been more wrong! My little birdie is already taking strides to girlhood . I am yet to make up my mind whether to celebrate or to rue. Enough said.. I'll let the pictures do the talking now.