Earlier today, I was in the kitchen cleaning and my kids were peacefully playing on their own. Or so I thought.
An hour or so later, my daughter walks up and starts chatting with me about something. Something seemed “off” about her appearance and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
All of a sudden it came to me:
Me: “Lizzie, did you cut your hair?”
Lizzie: “No. I mean yes. I mean, I’m sorry. “
Me: (marvels at how lucky I am that my daughter cut her own hair and actually managed to cut it into somewhat fashionable long side swept bangs) “Where did you put the hair?”
We head towards the playroom (after taking pictures to send to Daddy of course) and she makes a beeline for her play kitchen.
In the “pot” with the hair is a cotton ball and some paper.
Lizzie (unprompted): “There was water in there too.”
Me: “Why was there water in there?”
Lizzie: “It was an ingredient. The cotton ball, the hair and the water”
Me: “Hair is never an ingredient. That’s kind of yucky, would you eat hair?”
Lizzie: “Probably not” (giggles)
We had a long discussion about how we don’t cut our hair. She expressed that she wants her hair to be cut short again, so I promised we’d take her for a hair cut soon (and I “fixed” the bangs by evening it out a bit).
I just can’t get over how thankful I am. When I cut my hair as a kid it was always in a horrible spot and my mom had to fix my hair in creative styles for at least a few weeks to hide the spots. I’m not pleased she cut her hair, but the silver lining here is that she didn’t botch it like I did my own back when I was a little girl!
Let’s hope this is the first and last time my daughter decides to play hairdresser though! (or chef I guess?)