It was a rather slow day in our house. I was sick and sleeping. Doug was recovering and watching the kids. My birthday had just past and unbeknown to me, our two oldest had been making birthday cards in the room Becca and Hope share. They had not cleaned up one very important item. Enter exhibit A.
There are certain things in life that just should not mix. The pair of scissors and my preschooler's nap time for one. Especially on days when the girl doesn't feel like napping. And even more certainly on the days that she has had it with her little sister pulling her hair. Hope came to me before nap time to say, "Mommy, I want my hair little. I don't like it being big (long) anymore." I had just measured her ponytail to find out if it was eligible for Locks of Love. It was! I was so excited that even though she didn't want her hair anymore, someone would get some use out of my daughters 11 inches of blond hair. Instead of a fun mommy and daughter trip to the hair salon there was this.
And the walk of shame into W*lmart - the only place open at that time of day to get her hair cut.
(As a complete rant, they stylist comment was "What do you want me to do with it?" Seriously?)
And now my daughter sports this haircut.
Spunky and sassy, and much to her daddy's chagrin a little like V*ctoria B*ckhams.
Spunky and sassy and much to grown up for my little girl. One day I'll laugh....
