It's been two weeks since my lovely, beautiful little girls decided to take the scissors to their hair. Keith and I were working on setting up our office in the new house and getting a lot done but that would be because the girls were getting along so well and they were quiet. Too quiet. We even made the comment about how quiet they were and not a couple of minutes later, Ava came prancing into the office and whirled around and asked, "Do you like my new hair cut?"
My reaction was kind of like a volcano...I slowly, very slowly started whispering, "No...no...no!" And got ever increasingly louder and more hysterical. I'm pretty sure I scared my husband and my children. Yes, I realize it is hair, and it will grow back. And in the end their cuts are actually pretty cute. But you've got to know me, and know my history. Growing up, my Daddy always loved my hair long. My Grandfather used to brush my hair every so gently. And my Grandma, well, she never cut her hair a day in her life and having long hair just was our thing I guess you could say. I know my girls aren't me. I know that. But it was more that just a small oops and it could have been worse and they are so cute now. They cut away a part of me too. It it just hurt a little is all. I'm not sure I expect anyone else to understand that.
In Keith's facebook status, he commented that Carli was much more suited for a life of crime than Ava. Ha! But their personalities are so very different. Ava was so upset that I was upset. She really did not comprehend what had happened. Carli had done all the cutting and Ava was more upset that she got Carli in trouble. Carli on the other hand, was pretty indifferent. She was not upset and had the "I don't really care attitude." Talk about a test of patience and parenthood...the worst I did was yell. I can't stand indifference. And Carli knew better. She KNEW better and she did it anyway. My only solace is that she hates her hair short, but she does look cute, I have to admit so myself...
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