Cutting

The Girl is at it again. She decided she didn’t like her hair and that the best solution was to grab a pair of scissors and hack away at it. She’s seen me do it often enough, so I suppose I can’t really say anything, but there’s a world of difference between my hair and hers. Specifically, mine’s curly.

This makes more of a difference than most people think. I have had people ask if I cut it right after I washed it, and not notice after I’ve lopped off several inches. From one day to the next it can hang several inches difference. And for years now no one had noticed my bangs. At all.

Not the case on her.

She took the hair and put it in a ponytail first. Then she tried to cut straight across. Unluckily she missed on two counts. First, she cut too high so that it was several inches shorter than she’d planned on. Second, she cut at an angle.

This is about when she wandered up to me with scissors in hand and said, “Mooooooommmmm.”

I think somewhere in the back of her mind she thought I might have some unexplainable magic available to make it grow back, because she really did look like she was hoping for something in the way of a miracle. I asked if she wanted me to trim it for her, or to take her to a hair salon.

She refused both. Instead, she elected to keep messing with it herself, and THEN to have to trim only those parts she couldn’t reach herself and only under micro-management supervision.

To our amazement, it actually looks kind of stylish. right from that first misbegotten cut.

I wonder what her friends will say.