Beauty School Dropout

Never good to get a fearful/tearful phone call from your babysitter.

Probably worse to start laughing when she tells you that your daughter somehow had scissors in her bedroom and decided to give herself a haircut when said babysitter thought she was sleeping.

I should have known the night was going to be weird.  It was the end of a weird week, we were out with friends watching a band full of people that we knew, and then there were two of Allison's classmates at the bar.  Yeah, you read it right - 3rd graders at a bar on Friday night.  Gotta love Wisconsin!  I think this also speaks clearly to the status of our social life.

So we returned home (eventually - I mean, why rush, what's done is done and now we clearly need a drink!).  I made Brian promise that he wouldn't get her up to look until I got back from taking the babysitter home - as I thought it would be harmful to the esteem of the sitter if we rushed in an immediately ran upstairs to take a look-see.  I do really like our sitter, and I don't believe that it was her fault anyway - unless she'd supplied the scissors and said "hey, you'd look cut with a mullet."

And a mullet is what it was.  There were three lengths that aren't conveyed clearly in this picture (the 2-inch bangs, the 4 inch sides, and then 12 inch back that was clearly unreachable with last-year's snub-nosed 5-inch school fiskars).  I can say that it was worst than I hoped, but better than I feared.  I did a midnight google search of pixie haircuts to convince myself that it would be OK and in the morning did another search for a reputable haircut salon that was open on Sunday (this was not a job for Cost Cutters).  We ended up at JC Penney (a small step up, but a step up none-the-less).

This is what we managed.  It makes me a little ill when I consider that we spent 2 years growing out the bangs, and her hair was finally braid and ponytail-able.  She (of course) is happy as a clam with her new short 'do, and was slightly offended that I took a side trip to Claire's post-cut to purchase some big bows and headbands to hide what the stylist couldn't ("I can't really fix this big chunk here without taking off another 2 inches all around").  I even contemplated getting her ears pierced so that people would know that she's a girl, but then my rational mind figured that Brian would have to be present for that endeavor because I would clearly be laid out on the floor and that's no good for anyone.

So the new mantra: hair grows, and it could be worse.  (and if I repeat this several times, perhaps I will start to believe it too.....)