A Saturday in Hull. Moptop siblings Scott and Sam needed a hair cut. Sam wanted some ‘tracks’ cut into his hair. The hairdresser admitted she had never done them before. “Go ahead,” I insisted, “He’s your guinea pig.” She did ok. Simultaneously, Scott’s hair was re-styled by the man of the salon. Scott had opted for “something a bit like that picture on the wall”. I watched this hairdresser closely. He kept glancing at the picture but, judging by the finished product (a bit like Alex Parks of Pain Academy fame), he is either blind or not qualified yet. A snip, as they say, at £8 for two heads of hair.
We (myself and the trio) stayed at mum’s. I was thinking that kipping together in such adverse, cramped conditions might actually bring us closer than we could have been otherwise. At least that’s what I hope. I like watching them sleep. And watching them laugh. Watching them laugh in their sleep can be a bit disturbing, though. I love them. I’m not sure they realise how much.
Learnt to play on piano: Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know
Discovered on keyboard: A button that makes the noise of laughter