Showing posts with label haircuts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label haircuts. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Forensic Evidence (and some more tears)


Exhibit A. Hair. Stephanie's hair. Found disembodied on the family room floor. Clearly, a miniature crime had been committed. I'm not sure why, but it seemed like a good idea at the time to collect as much of the hair as possible and put it in a bag. So I did. And it's still in the bag. (What should I do with it? It's beautiful rich brown, curly hair. Yes. Natural curl.)

At the time of the crime, I was preparing to cut her hair myself. Well--trim it really. I had given the boys their haircuts the night before and she wanted her turn. So I set the kit down (did NOT know she could open it) and came back 5 minutes later. She was not there, but the hair was.

I tried not to show sadness. I didn't want her to feel TOO bad about it. I think she figured she could put it back on whenever she wanted, and when I looked sad, she started crying. So I told her she looked so pretty and I loved her hair. But really, how could I? She had given herself a mullet. A bad mullet. Wait... is there any other kind?

Just for context, here are a couple photos of her beautiful hair BEFORE the self-do:


See? Didn't I tell you? It was Bee-you-tiful! (Yes, I know. It will be again. But still... this cut came right before the visit of both sets of grandparents.)

And...here's the mullet:

And here's the result after a friend fixed it for us. I say "us" because it hurts me as much as it hurts Stephanie to have this hair gone. Probably more.

She's still pretty cute, though, isn't she? And the curl is still fabulous. Lucky little thing! Now she keeps saying things to me about her hair that let me know she's sad about it. She asked me later in the day of the fix-it cut, "Mommy? Can you see my hair? I can't see my hair." Another day, she told me, "Mommy, my hair is not working. It needs to go down." Then this morning she asked me for braids.

Clearly, this is my first girl. I can just feel some of you sneering about how idiotic it was for me to leave her alone with the kit. But I'm an amateur girl mom. I honestly didn't know. Still... I guess there's no use crying over cut hair.