So, last night after girly girls are in bed fast asleep,
I am going through the house
making sure everything is tidy,
the lights are all out,
the doors are locked,
the animals are sleeping where they should be
(not where they want to be).
I find this...
At first, I thought what in the world is that?
We have dogs that shed, but not like that.
The further I go, the bigger the chunks.
I start to get really nervous...
Is this my three year old's golden, curly locks?
Nerves are gone, and panic has sunk in,
not realizing that the "hair" is straight.
And then, I found her...
a casualty dropped off in the hallway.
Emotions swirling.
Relieved that it is no hair of my girlies.
Sad for the eldest girlie who will not appreciate ANY part of this in the morning.
A bit proud that said three year old has her own sense of
creativity and definition of what is beautiful,
and a little alarmed that she had the scissors long enough to do all of this.
So, being the version of mommy that I am.
I clean the mess up.
Dispose of the body.
And hope no missing Barbie report is filed.
I mean isn't it a right of passage for all little girls anyway?
And after seeing her results from poor Barbie,
surely she will be scared away from trying this on herself.
So, really this is all kind of a good thing.
Right?
Yes, that's it!
That is what I will tell myself!
Wishing you all a lifetime of good hair days!
P.S. after initially posting this, I asked Mary-Morgen why she cut Barbie's hair.
Her reply was, "She was already ugly and her hair was in her eyes."
How can I be upset with total honesty?