Barber's shops are strange places.

DAY 22 - EGG COUNT 5
Firstly I must apologise for not posting a blog yesterday which was due to the fact I left the house at 8-15am, didn't return until 9-30pm and had no access to a computer during this period. Also, I returned home via the pub and after several glasses of rose wine, my typing fingers were not quite connecting to my brain.
I have just spent a rather uncomfortable twenty minutes in a barbers shop. The reason for this is because son number 2 missed his bus and was desperate to get his hair cut before starting his shift as a chef (I considered it my public duty not to have a hairy chef in the kitchen and expose some poor unsuspecting customer to the risk of finding a strand of my son's ginger locks in their lunch.)
Barbers shops really are strange places and not at all like hairdressing salons. As a female, one feels completely out of place and as I rammed myself in a corner pretending to read a dog eared newspaper, I could feel the hostile male stares boring into me. All the men sit in rows awaiting their turn and nobody talks, they seem to stake each other out like lions in a pen. It was all very odd and not an experience I wish to repeat - next time he misses the bus, I shall get out the hair trimmers and he'll have to make do with a number 2 all over. Bye for now.