Saturday Morning Beauty Shop

Can you recall the Saturday mornings when your mom, older sister, auntie or Nana called you down the stairs to get your hair done? You could smell the hot comb as it sat on the stove, simmering just for you. I can recall those days like they were yesterday, mom sitting me in the kitchen chair while she arranged her instruments of torture, well, that was the way they appeared to me. The hard plastic black comb with three or more teeth missing. You know the one she used on your thick hair, that always broke in the midst of the excruciating de-tangeling session. The comb also doubled as a weapon to slap your fingers if you acted like you were tenderheaded. I always wondered why she never threw the comb away, but used it week after week, until it broke in half. Beside the comb was the thick blue grease or pressing creme. Then there was the old burnt towel, that was used to take some of the heat from the hot comb before it touched your head, but did not cool it enough to stop it from burning your scalp. Opps, the heat was from the grease or at least that is what was said after it touched your scalp. Finally, the stick of coco butter or petroleum jelly for those beautiful burnt marks on your forehead and ear tips. Yeah, I can still feel the thick slather of grease my mom slid down my scalp and it always felt cool. Oh, do you remember when your mom tried to cool the hot comb with her breathe, but it still seemed too hot. I reminisce not to bring back all of the horrors of the Saturday Morning beauty shop, but to say, those moments with mom, grandma, auntie or cousin so and so, allowed time for bonding. It was during those times when you understood that looking good was a long and painful process. I was recently surprised when a friend stated that her natural daughter had voiced some issues with her hair and wanted to wear it long and straight. After some investigation, I learned that her daughter just wanted to wear her hair out and it could be accomplished with a simple twist out. Well, my friend then stated that she did not do her daughter's hair and was somewhat hair phobic. I then explained that the style is easy and it will help to lengthen her hair. I also told her that she should learn or attempt to do her hair. In order for our daughters to love and embrace their hair, we have to run our fingers through it and let them know it is beautiful and just as God intended it to be. See those times when Mom hot combed my hair were torturous, but when she was done and smiled wide and said, "I love your hair", I was elated that I was beautiful to my momma. See Saturday mornings were not just about being burned, they were about quality time with mom, auntie, sister or play cousin down the street. Next time, your lil angel is between your legs about to get her hair done,or at the kitchen getting tortured, tell her she is beautiful and she is unique and special. Tell her just how beautiful and unique her natural is without subjecting it to heat. Just do not use that little comb with the missing teeth.