Do Not Worry Son It Will Grow Back
Week before middle school
Twelve and shy
Sent to get haircut
With three dollars
Clippers were brought out
I was too scared to look
I had never had a store-bought haircut before
The man had a funny smell.
I would not know it was alcohol for several more years.
He sang while he used a razor on my head.
When he was done I looked up.
He said "Three dollars son."
I started to cry.
A tear ran down my face.
He had given me a buzz cut.
I had not grown any kind of indicators that I
was a girl. I had never thought to tell him.
"Don't worry, Son," he said, as he took my three
dollars. "It will grow back."
So I went to middle school looking like
a male army recruit, at the age of twelve.
Worst year of my life.
At that time.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2019