Sparrows need a trim every now and then, right?
Today was that day - Salon Trip Day. And it wasn’t a trip to just any old salon. Today was the collecting all my extra money for the fancy schmancy salon where they charge you at least double for a haircut to walk in where they treat you like a celebrity, offer you a hot beverage and dainty cookies (not a chocolate chip in sight). A place I have only visited once before in all my sparrow-living days.
Simple lines, clean white floors, beautiful waterfall (seriously!), and comfy leather chairs. A place where to my sparrow way of thinking, if I spent more money, it surely would make me a better looking sparrow.
I took my place at Seat #4. A seat smack dab in the middle of the biggest floor to ceiling mirror I’d ever seen. And, therein lies the lesson.
Wow! I looked around. I didn’t notice any other sparrows filling up their chairs quite so roundly. In fact, the more I looked around, I didn’t seem to spot any other sparrows. And with every clip, clip, clipping my wee little brain said, “No fit, no fit, no fitting.”
So I say, “How do you like your job?” and “you work some long days,” and “do you enjoy cooking?” and then she says, “Where do you live?” and “how many children do you have?” and then I say, “You really are good with your scissors,” and she says, “I just got them sharpened yesterday.”
And I find another sparrow.
A sparrow named Amanda. Who did give me a good trim. And gave me a better lesson.
the perfect fit,
margi
