Hot air and blond hair

Staying briefly on the theme of politics, one of the many changes the politically correct New Labour Government brought to the Palace of Westminster in 1997 was the replacement of the age-old gentlemen's barber shop with a new unisex hairdressing salon. And, as you might imagine, many honourable and right honourable gentlemen were far from pleased.

I remember discussing this with one of them at the time and he told me a wonderful little story about Enoch Powell (above), the controversial Conservative turned Ulster Unionist MP who will be forever remembered for his notorious 1968 "rivers of blood" speech.

The House of Commons barber was, according to my man, very chatty and saw it as part of his job to keep his clientele fully entertained whilst on the job (you know what I mean). But Powell was something of a cold fish and not prone to conversation if he did not regard it as worth his while.

One day, Powell placed himself in the barber's chair and stared straight ahead into the mirror without uttering a peep.

With a big smile on his face, the barber arrived with his cloth and scissors and bellowed:

"Good morning Mr Powell! And how would you like your hair cut today?"

Without as much as blinking, Powell replied darkly:

"In complete silence."

And no doubt it was.

This story is an admittedly tenuous link to the fact Jamie has just added another element to his already very lengthy bedtime routine - he has his hair blow-dried.

Regular readers of this rubbish will know that Jamie's has had a cold for most of his 11-months of life and clearly Vanessa and I want to try and stop his bad run. And as his hair's got longer, so it's obviously become more difficult to dry it properly after his bath before putting him down to (not) sleep.

We have been considering for a few weeks whether to chance a haircut before his christening. But he does look cute with it a little long and neither Vanessa nor I trust ourselves with a pair of scissors - particularly in advance of his big day.

Vanessa first got the blow-drier out last weekend when I was away and I missed his first couple of bedtimes earlier this week because of work. So last night was the first time I got to see how he responded to his latest bit of pampering.

Needless to sat, he was very enthusiastic, his nose occasionally pointing snootily in the air whilst the brush was running through his locks.

If we ever do get the BBQ summer weather we've all been promised, I fear it will be a very short time before he demands his own personal fan - waved by one of his exhausted parents.