It was haircut time for us ladies of the house last week. We found our favorite stylist, Laila, in her new little salon at 6 in the evening. A cute "hallway" studio, with clean white tile floors, a bright light, one chair, one shampooing sink, and a cassette player that played some ethnic dance music. B. was first and Laila began chopping away. (She has a good eye for even hair, though she certainly likes to cut short!) B's hair was half done when I noticed that Laila began to cough and went for a brief walk outside. When she returned she bent down to get a drink from the shampooing sink. Unfortunately we heard a retch and poor Laila began vomiting. The minute that followed felt like a good 1/2 hour as I asked her if she needed help, debated if we should quickly run out of there (!), said "poor thing, poor thing," and then determined to sterilize myself upon our return home. She felt much better after that episode and put a towel over the shampooing sink (remind me to always wash my hair before going next time!). Though I urged her to rest and we would return another time, she wanted to complete all of our hairdo's. So she did. And we all showered vigorously when we returned home. I love an adventure. I do. But sometimes I just long for something here to be routine, ordinary, what I expected. I guess "dull moments" don't always require much faith in God to get you through them though. He is near and cares for us and a little sickie stylist.
