I like my job. I really do. But I do not really like children coming into my job.
Perhaps peculiar to that particular neighborhood, everyone that frequents the salon and brings children with them, has like 4 kids, all pretty closely ranged in age from babe-in-arms to about 4th grade. And if they don't have 4 kids of their own, they come in with someone else that has the appropriate amount of children to round the group out to 4 children.
Case in point, we had two women bring their herd of children into the salon earlier today.
One woman had 3, the other woman had 1, and the woman with more children wanted both of her boys to get cuts.
She was told it would be at least 30 minutes, so they put the names in and left.
Ten minutes later, they all returned to the salon and sat down. Well, the adults sad down. The children instead started to whoop and holler and run around like little crazy people, clearly not using their indoor voices, and the mothers responded by increasing the volume of their conversation, as the decibel level of the children rose accordingly.
No chiding, no shushing, no dirty looks. No, "Sit down over here and stop pulling your sister's hair!" No grabbing things out of the children's hands and putting them back on the shelves where they belonged.
No nothin'.
A couple of minutes later, the more apparently fertile of the pair inquired as to whether the wait would be 20 minutes or not, as she could not decide if they should leave and come back, or just stay inside until there was time for the kids to get cuts.
All I really wanted to say, "Well, it'd be a lot quieter in here if you left."
But I didn't.
Perhaps peculiar to that particular neighborhood, everyone that frequents the salon and brings children with them, has like 4 kids, all pretty closely ranged in age from babe-in-arms to about 4th grade. And if they don't have 4 kids of their own, they come in with someone else that has the appropriate amount of children to round the group out to 4 children.
Case in point, we had two women bring their herd of children into the salon earlier today.
One woman had 3, the other woman had 1, and the woman with more children wanted both of her boys to get cuts.
She was told it would be at least 30 minutes, so they put the names in and left.
Ten minutes later, they all returned to the salon and sat down. Well, the adults sad down. The children instead started to whoop and holler and run around like little crazy people, clearly not using their indoor voices, and the mothers responded by increasing the volume of their conversation, as the decibel level of the children rose accordingly.
No chiding, no shushing, no dirty looks. No, "Sit down over here and stop pulling your sister's hair!" No grabbing things out of the children's hands and putting them back on the shelves where they belonged.
No nothin'.
A couple of minutes later, the more apparently fertile of the pair inquired as to whether the wait would be 20 minutes or not, as she could not decide if they should leave and come back, or just stay inside until there was time for the kids to get cuts.
All I really wanted to say, "Well, it'd be a lot quieter in here if you left."
But I didn't.
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