Hipster Bangs

September 30, 2012

So this morning I made Sean get up with the kids because I do it almost every other day.  He went to the bathroom and was screwing around in there and Catherine came in to tell him she didn’t want to tattle, but Rachel had scissors and was cutting her nightgown.

Urgh. Scissors confiscated.  I wandered downstairs, got coffee, got Joe’s bottle, came back upstairs, gave Joe the bottle, was sitting at my desk half asleep screwing around and R came over.  I’m all, “RACHEL.  Do we take scissors from-”

AND then I noticed the hair hack job.  To her credit, she did not (a) go TOO short or (b) hit anywhere but the front, where bangs normally are.  Long story short, she says she wanted a haircut but I would say no, basically because I say no to everything, so she didn’t ask but decided to do it herself.

Cry for attention what?

Result: we got her trimmed at the salon today.  She has bangs.  I don’t like them.  I hate bangs.  I had bangs as a kid and I have post-traumatic bang disorder.  They stick to your forehead when it’s hot, they require a lot of trimming, a lot of maintenance, and you can never have a real full ponytail.  We will plan to grow them out, unless she decides she really likes them.  But it had to happen after this mess.

I’m writing a note to her teacher saying no scissors for a week.  And I think Sean and I are going to take just her to the half-marathon expo on Friday for some special time.

What are you gonna do?


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