So we have a friend stop by today while he was working in the area, we all three have a few beers, catching up…good times. He leaves. I think to my self – wow, our kids were soooo good and quiet that whole time. I’m thinking he must think we are awesome parents of well behaved kids. Of course we know that’s not exactly the truth, but if he thinks it? No biggie, right?
A few minutes later, the girls come downstairs. I look at Taylor. Waaaaait a minute. Something ain’t right. Taylor has a giant chunk of hair missing.
Just look at this face. Guilty is written all over it. Please ignore that she looks incredibly cute in her princess dress. We are focusing on the bad. Apparently the girls went upstairs, on the top bunk of Cameron’s bed and cut hair. Cameron did the cutting. And Taylor let her.
Fast forward 15 minutes – after both girls sit in time outs on “naughty mats” (thanks Super Nanny), I’m ready to accept it. And take photos of it. Taylor is so not caring how mad I am and thinks she’s being my model. She only cares that I’m interrupting her eating her string cheese.
Here is the damage. I know her hair is sort of stringy and ratty anyway so it’s kind of hard to see what’s good and what’s bad.
So I circled the whack job for you.
And I went hunting for the remains. So sad.
Now what? If I get her hair cut so it’s even she’ll look like a boy.
by Shannon Lott
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