Mama and Drama

I was reading Mommy Dearest's post over at Home Sweet Home. She tells the story about her little girl, a neon ink pen, and some pretty awesome carpet stain remover. Be sure to check it out.

Her post reminded me of the times my daughter cut her hair. Yes, times, not time. She has done it twice. The first time, she was about 3 years old. As soon as she had done it, she came to me and told on herself. The damage wasn't that obvious until I started to inspect her little head. OH! The stubble of bangs that remained made my jaw drop.

When I asked her why she cut her hair, she simply said,"I was hot."

The next day we went to my hairdresser and my daughter had the most fabulous bob hairdo in her preschool class. And, we also had a very long talk about how every kid cuts their hair once, and this was her one time. So, that meant she was done with the cutting hair rite of passage of childhood. The End.

Not.

It seems there was a sequel to this story and I was not consulted before publication.

It was last year. (I don't tell my child's age now due to safety concerns, but let's just say she is old enough to know better.) I was -yep- on the phone with Mama. You knew that one was coming. Kids always do these things when we are on the phone. The sequence of events went something like this-

Maggie the cat ran in my room and dashed under the bed.

My daughter walks in. "Mommy, Maggie won't let me brush her."

"Maybe Maggie doesn't feel like being brushed right now. Leave her be."

"But I want to brush her. She won't let me." Whine, Whine, Whine.

"Mama, let me call you back. I need to deal with this."

I hung up the phone and found Maggie still crouched under the bed. My daughter was in the living room.

"It is rude to interrupt me while I am on the phone. Unless you need something or you are hurt, just wait until I get off."

"Mommy, I cut my hair."

"What?!!!! Let me see! Oh, what did you do!? You know you are in trouble."

"I cut Maggie's hair, too."

"What?!!! Why?"

"She needed a haircut. She was hot."

Let me stop here and tell you the cat was fine. Ugly, but fine. Actually, because she is a long hair the gauging and chopping just looked like the cat version of "layers." Apparently, Maggie had been forced into our little apprentice groomer's fun and then ran away. The mad escape is when I saw her run under the bed.

Because my child was chasing her with scissors.

Never mind the "Never run with scissors" 11th commandment. No. We have to amend that rule to "Never run with scissors while chasing the cat."

I was surprisingly calm through the entire ordeal. My daughter had time out that evening, no tv, no movies, no fun. She also had to pay for half of the haircut that repaired the damage. I told her she would have had to pay for all of it if she had not told me. I also reminded her that every kid gets one time to cut their hair and her time had already run out. There was not supposed to be a second time.

When I took her to the hairdresser to repair the massive mess, she told the stylist "I cut my hair. And, there won't be a next time."