She Cut a Quarter
As a child, I always had long, blonde curly hair. I never liked it. As a matter of fact, I wanted a ducktail /duck’s ass. One day while playing in nursery school with my friend Dena Kaye (Danny Kaye’s daughter), we decided to have some extra fun. Dena knew I was unhappy with my long hair and asked me if I’d like to play “beauty parlor.”
So off we went by ourselves to the large crate boxes that were on the far corner of the playground. I don’t know where Dena found a pair of scissors — maybe I did then, but that was in 1951. By the time the teacher found us, Dena had managed to cut off a quarter of my hair.
It was Dena’s mother’s turn to drive carpool, and when she arrived to pick us up, we were both terrified. I sat in the front with a big smile on my face trying not to laugh, while Dena sat in the back crying her eyes out. Her mother drove in silence with both hands on the wheel and her eyes straight ahead on the very long, twenty-minute drive home.
My mother was waiting for us as we pulled into the driveway. As soon as she saw me, she began to cry. She didn’t really seem angry, just very, very sad. She only spoke a few sentences that I can remember. “The teacher called to say there was an accident. She said, You will notice a difference in Danna’s hair. It is much shorter. When I asked how short, she replied, a quarter. I thought 1/4 meant 1/4 shorter not 1/4…