My Haircut
I was
slightly nervous, I was starting to sweat, what should I do? It was haircut
time!
I
slowly clambered into the swinging chair this was not fun at all. The
hairdresser brought the table over and I shivered when I glanced at the
scissors begging to cut something. Then suddenly she yanked my hair like an
anchor dropping into the ocean, ouch!
I was
wishing that I could disappear. She was yanking it hard and then she pulled out
a hair drier and I breathed a sigh of relief, it was over. Then no she hadn’t
finished it was taking far too long because my hair was too thick. Then she
pulled out the hair drier again and done!
Then I
said ‘Thank you’ and left the perfume smell behind me. I was never going back
there again!
Written
by Fraser
My Haircut
I love
my hair long but when my Mum mentioned ‘Hairdressers’, I froze. I hated the
horrid hairdressers as much as eating a worm.
‘Get in
the car’, Mum said, so I did. When we got there I closed my eyes and held my
nose, then I stepped inside. When it was my turn I went onto the chair. A few
cuts later I think she cut my ear.
OOOuuuccchhhh!! It stings, it burns! Once she had finished I told my Mum.
I must
have to make some kind of ‘Do Not Go’’,
Sign on the road some how.
Written
by Tommy
My Haircut
Slam! I
shut the car door as I entered Chartwell to get my haircut.
I had
seen just pictures of odd haircuts but I’m going to have the best haircut in
the whole hair salon so it had better turn out right. Snip, snip goes the
scissors, scrape, scrape goes the comb, squish, squash goes the hair products
and squirt goes the bottle of water. It gave me the shivers like penguins get.
I heard razors going and the scissors snipping and children crying. I smelt
grape flavoured products and also strawberry.
I had
thought it was kind of nice getting a haircut especially as after I could get
some Smiggle stuff for a reward.
Written
by Mackenzie
An Indian Style
Haircut
Getting
my whole head shaved? Whoa! I don’t think so! I was squirming and wheezing when
they told me I had to get my whole head shaved but it had to occur someday and
that was now.
The
reason was that I didn’t get my hair shaved three times before I was three
years old, only two times. I had to have a saline so my grandma shaved her
head. It’s a ritual all the Indians have to do for what I know so…
The
lifeless razors lay down on the cold stone concrete, soon to be used to murder
the beautiful clan of hair on top of my head. I sometimes wished I could have
had my head decapitated instead of having my hair all shaved off but in the
long run I think it was better for me. My hair would grow again, maybe even
more beautifully. I stayed still for the razors to cut my hair (more like kill
it!), I heard it racing around my hair shaving it all off. Amazingly after it
finished, there were no bleedy cuts, scars or slashes, just like it was brand
shiny new.
At the
end I walked out as ripe as a tomato with embarrassment. I wanted to hide all
my face like it was something from outer space (I looked like an alien with
such a huge head). As I went to the car I knew that I’d grow it back but for
now I knew as we sped away, that I wasn’t getting another haircut…just yet!
Written
by Meghana
My Haircut
As I
opened the car door, I looked across the street to see the deadly hairdresser
salon.
I
walked through wondering, what is going to happen next? I smell hair products
floating through the air. I see the hairdresser’s weapons scattered everywhere.
I walk up to the swinging chair that’s in front of me. Chop, goes the scissors,
scrape goes the comb.
Ten
minutes later I step out of the chair and look in the mirror. It was horrible,
almost as horrible as a zombie’s haircut. That was it. I was never getting a
haircut again.
Written
by Seb
My Horrendous
Haircut
I took
a deep breath and entered the hair salon. A wave of the smell of burnt hair and
cloudy perfume overwhelmed me as I entered. Mum ushered me over to where the
hairdresser was standing. My mind screamed in protest but my legs moved on, as
if I was in a trance.
I sat
down and the hairdresser threw the cape around me. She inspected my hair, like
a police officer inspects a crook. Then she said something terrible. I couldn’t
believe my ears! She said, ‘I will have to straighten her hair’. Mum nodded. I
was transported to another chair and the terror began.
When it
was finished, the moment I dreaded came. I saw the scissors coming closer and
then snip, snip. I saw my precious hair fall to the floor. But, I knew it was
over. I sighed with relief. But then, I looked down and saw something terrible.
My hair was much shorter than I
would have liked.
That
was it. No matter how hard Mum tries to persuade me, I was never getting a
haircut again!!!!!!
Written
by Penelope
