Side Bangs

Picture this: A serene Friday afternoon, the first day of summer break in the Cake Household. Mommy is cooking for Shabbos, Housekeeper F is folding laundry, Pes is out roaming the neighborhood like a teenage wastrel, Gorby is in his room sleeping, and the Gabor sisters are looking for trouble.

Now let me back up a minute. For weeks, Zsa Zsa and Eva have been begging for "side bangs." "What are side bangs?" you ask. Well, I have been asking the same thing. For weeks. Unfortunately, as you will soon see, I did not do my hishtadlus to find out what side bangs actually are/entail and, thus, tragedy struck.

You see, on this serene Friday afternoon, Zsa Zsa and Eva begged for the 1000th time for side bangs.

"Mommy," Zsa Zsa popped into the kitchen, "Can we get side bangs?"

"Um, now is not the time to go to the hair cut place, and you will TOTALLY REGRET getting side bangs anyway."

My understanding of side bangs at that point was some shorter hair around your face that constantly falls into your eyes and annoys you all day long, i.e., my Shabbos sheitel. I'm still not sure if this was the look they were going for, because, again, I still don't know what side bangs are and, frankly, don't care.

However, the Gabors were just DYING for side bangs and I remembered how, as a young girl in the '80s, I was DYING for a perm. I would beg, Mother would say no, and around we went until I ended up looking like a crazy poodle and regretting every permed moment as I said, "Wow, it looks so great, I love it!" with tears welling up in my eyes every time I looked in the mirror, not able to cry out loud since then Mother would know she was actually right and I actually totally regretted it.

So I thought to myself, "Those girls can just learn that same lesson I learned and go get those crazy side bangs. And as an added bonus, maybe I will actually find out what they are."

So I looked at Zsa Zsa and said, "Fine, go ahead, but you will TOTALLY REGRET IT!" Now, they had talked Housekeeper F into doing this lunacy for them because they had somehow come to understand that she had completed beauty school.

Two minutes after I gave my non-permission permission, Zsa Zsa walked into the kitchen. I almost passed out. She had a chunk of hair missing from the side of her face. Picture someone taking the hair from the center of the forehead until the ear and just chopping it straight across right above the ear. If you can't picture it, just know that it was SO HORRIBLE I ALMOST DIED!!!!

Now, as a testament to the deep love I have for my housekeeper, who keeps me alive and sane on a daily basis, I smiled at her and then turned to Zsa Zsa and screamed, "GET IN THE CAR RIGHT NOW WE ARE GOING TO THE HAIR CUT PLACE!!!!!" Eva and Gorby wanted in on the action and I screamed at them to hurry put their shoes on get in the car RIGHT NOW. Misplaced anger.

We zoomed along to our favorite family haircut place, a barber/beauty shop attached to a house on one of our main semi-highways, manned by two extremely hardworking Vietnamese immigrants, Lila and Vinny. Vinny is a perpetually smiling, sweet and gentle black belt in tae kwon do, and Lila has an acerbic tongue and says, "Honey," after every sentence. We sheepishly walked in and I said, "Um, she tried to get side bangs," as I pointed to Zsa Zsa. My daughter smiled guiltily, braces glinting in the afternoon sun.

Lila looked at us as if we were complete morons. "Those aren't side bangs, honey," she scolded in her thick Vietnamese accent. "Who did this?"

Busted. I was trying to make it seem like Zsa Zsa had done it herself, but the wily Lila caught on pretty quick.

"Mmmm-my housekeeper," I stammered. "What?!! Honey!! Leave your housekeeper to keep your house. Those aren't side bangs, uh-uh, honey." And she began to try to fix the damage.

This was not easy. It's amazing how one quick slip of the scissors can undo years of hair growing outedness. You totally know what I mean if you're a girl. So she snipped away and finally ended up with, um, a MULLET!!!!

I said, "No, um no, that's no happening. Lila, this is a mullet."

Zsa Zsa said, "Mommy, it's fine, I don't want her to cut off all my long hair."

I said, "Nobody in my house is ever going to have a mullet. It is not allowed in the Cake family. Lila will have to cut it so it's layered all around. Sorry."

Zsa Zsa sighed and sat back down in the chair. And I am totally not making this up: Lila turned around and mouthed to me, "Mullet is Red Neck?" I smiled. She nodded conspiratorially.

So Lila fixed it up. And Zsa Zsa ended up with a very cute layered hair cut that will take a year or two to grow out. And I realized that while Housekeeper F may have gone to beauty school, she may only have been licensed to practice on Afro-Caribbean individuals.

Now we have spent the weekend convincing ourselves how cute Zsa Zsa's hair is. And since she is a gorgeous girl (naturally, as a Gabor), she really does look amazing. But I wonder, as she looks in the mirror, if the tears aren't welling up a little. And I see myself looking in the mirror at exactly Zsa Zsa's age and thinking, "Mother--how could you have let me PERM MY HAIR???"