Last summer, we broke our “no broken bones” streak when Collin leapt from a wall onto a lawn chair and didn’t stick the landing.
Tonight, we broke our “no self-haircuts” record.
It started with Maura walking into the room holding a small fistful of hair. Her hair. And then handing a longer set of strands to Josh. I immediately tried to tell from the hair she was holding whether it looked cut or pulled out. Then I grabbed a hairbrush and brushed out more hair. I still couldn’t tell and began to worry that either she pulled it out, or it just came out in a chunk.
But then, as I brushed her hair back, we saw the small short sections of hair. We both said “Yeah, that’s cut.”
Never have I been so relieved that my child cut her own hair. And even better, it’s only two small sections that are well hidden under the top layer. I’m also pretty sure she used the little scissors out of my knitting bag, which is why damage was minimal.
Now we just need to find those little scissors so she doesn’t pull a repeat performance, as my “We don’t cut hair” lecture I think was beyond her comprehension. Her hair has also gotten longer – it’s now shoulder length – and always in her face, which she doesn’t like, so it’s time I took her for a haircut again.