When I was eight I had bad hair. It almost reaches my shoulders, pointing out but not flipping up, in the family picture we have from that time. A picture my dad isn’t in, because (as I remember it), Mom got tired waiting for him to be available for pictures. (Dad was in the Navy doing a medical residency; this was before the rules designed to keep residents from working 72-hour shifts five times a week, which I know isn’t possible, but that’s how it seemed).
I wanted to get my ears pierced. My friends must have had pierced ears, and it seemed unfair that I had to wait till I was 16 (or 14?) before I could get mine pierced. My dad, in a nostalgic move (I was the oldest, and there is something about the oldest, something about the first experience of being a parent). Anyway, he made a deal with me. I could get my ears pierced at eight if I’d cut my hair to a short bob, how he liked my hair when I was three and four and singing into Great-Grandma Belle’s four-legged cane/microphone.
I was stubborn, though (maybe I didn’t realize how scarecrow my hair looked?), and in the end he paid me twenty-five dollars plus getting my ears pierced so I would let Mom cut my hair. I bought two ugly dresses with that twenty-five dollars. (This must have been right before I stopped wearing dresses for fun).
The weird thing about this is that I usually think of my dad’s parenting style as on the authoritative side of things. Really.
If you know my dad, and his dad, you believe this authoritative interpretation I’ve held for thirty-two years, but reading this story, he doesn’t have a very heavy hand, does he?
So you can imagine: My dad is authoritative yet he bribed me with something I wanted most at the time to cut my hair a way that suited his picture of me as a little girl, a way he thought suited me best.
With that as a baseline (Dad=Authoritative, Eight-Year-Old Me=Complete Autonomy in Matters of Hair), you can appreciate maybe why the story of a daughter (age eight, the age of my oldest girl, my old self’s age) not allowed to have her hair as she wanted, filled me with . . . indignation.
I apologize for taking it personally enough that I was mean with it.
—
That wasn’t the last time Dad made a deal (or dare) with his kids. When I was twelve-ish? Before Karin and Ryan were born anyway, we were staying at a hotel in St. George in the winter, and Dad bet us money (again, $25?) that we wouldn’t jump in the winterized outdoor pool. We did (Marcy, Brad and I), and I remember I bought a phone for my bedroom that time.
In high school we made fun of beauty pageants by calling them cattle auctions, and Dad bet me I wouldn’t participate in one, so I did. I think I got fifty dollars that time, plus pageant fees and my (long-suffering) mom’s expert seamstressing of a gorgeous Snow White evening gown. I also learned a lot about poise and self-confidence and interviewing.
—
I wonder what I can get Sally to do with the right incentive?
(And Dad, you were a lot more fun than I sometimes remember.)
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Just your first sentence got me.
You were in a beauty pageant? I always secretly thought I wanted to do something like that, but now it seems so stupid that I wanted to do that. I guess the poise thing really would have helped me, though. Maybe I wouldn’t be having all these shoulder/neck/back problems . . . grr.
Jane Reply:
September 29th, 2009 at 7:56 am
Unfortunately my posture is pretty bad. I blame it on hunching over my computer too much. (And general laziness). But the beauty (“scholarship”) pageant was a lot more fun than I had guessed. Of course, if I’d been a contender, it would’ve probably been very stressful. As it was, I was happy to win the interview section, and to get through the rest of it. And my Snow White costume was awesome! (Wish I still fit into it!) I did the Hamlet soliloquy for my talent. Was awesome — the drama department lent me the coolest green velvet costume.
(Also, Kimberly who leaves thoughtful, personal comments on here was in the pageant with me, and as I recall was a runner-up, I think she played the piano, and she was very good at the pageant stuff.)
I would love to see a picture of the dress your mom made! Your dad sounds like he knew how to have fun as well as take charge.
Jane Reply:
September 29th, 2009 at 11:43 pm
I had fun this afternoon looking for pictures. Will post soon.
My dad bribed me on several occasions – sort of as you say. I never did the beauty pageant thing. Was it enjoyable or just like they portray it to be? Also – have you seen Tiaras and Tantrums? I’ve been wanting to check that one out.
I remember some hair that shouldn’t have been. The high bangs. And if they weren’t just right, I’d stay home from school because I couldn’t show my face. How silly, looking back! =)
Jane Reply:
September 29th, 2009 at 11:48 pm
It honestly was a blast. I would never pressure my daughters to be in one (in fact, I’d probably be weirded-out if they were serious), but it was a great experience for me. I did Hamlet for the talent and wore a Snow White costume for the evening gown. (And retained my feeling that the beauty aspect of it is shallow and potentially demeaning, while having fun, if that makes any sense).
Tiaras and Tantrums — about little girls in pageants I’m guessing? Sounds absolutely horrific. Did you see Little Miss Sunshine? Hilarious.
Wow, you did have a cool dad. I love my dad but that would have never ever ever happened. And he would have paid me to NOT be in a pageant. Which I guess was enough to keep me from doing it. I had no power at 8 years old but at that point I didn’t know I wanted it yet.
Oh, and no big shocker that you won the interview portion. You always have been a smarty pants, huh?
Jane Reply:
September 29th, 2009 at 11:49 pm
I’m pretty sure that if I’d been the sort of girl who wanted to be in pageants, he never would have dared me to do it. But it was a great experience, probably a lucky set of circumstances at the time, because in general, I wouldn’t encourage women or girls to participate in that sort of thing.
haha, my dad just paid me to read books. How to Win Friends and Influence People and 7 Habits
Jane Reply:
September 29th, 2009 at 11:51 pm
I guess it’s the reverse psychology. I used to hide in the bathroom on Saturday mornings so I could keep reading instead of doing chores. Sally is the same way. Sometimes I think I’ll have to pay her to put her book down.
(Not that I’m really advocating paying kids to do what you want. Bribery is great, of course, but I’m too poor to be paying for all the good behavior I want to see!)
My husband bribes the kids and it drives me nuts. Both my older sons became richer this summer for riding the biggest roller coaster at the amusement park. I guess that is normal dad stuff and I will just let it go. Come to think of it, my grandpa bribed me to get my hair cut when I was in the 5th grade. I keep trying to tell myself the results were era appropriate (it was the 80′s after all), but I don’t even think that excuses it.
72 hour shifts 5 times a week? I swear they expanded time just to make that possible (they changed the rules half way through Peter’s residency and he was actually able to find time to breath again).