When my sister Chanel was four, she grabbed her bangs and cut them down to about an eighth of an inch.
When my sister Danielle was eleven, she locked herself in the bathroom. Hearing her anguished wails through the door, Chanel, Mom, and I ran to see what was wrong. It took us two hours of cajoling and many repeated promises not to laugh before she let us in. She finally opened the door – her right eyebrow was hacked to all be damned and there wasn't much left of the left eyebrow. With some creative trimming and liberal use of a brow pencil, I was able to salvage her face and she actually looked cute. She made me swear to never, ever tell anyone. Ahem.
When Kyra was three, she got tired of cutting paper and instead snipped about an inch from one of her ponytails. Thankfully, it wasn't that obvious.
Yesterday morning, Kaelyn decided to give herself a haircut. She whacked off more than half of one of her braids. I shit you not. She said, "But I'm so cute," patting the remaining puff as if she'd just come from the beautician.
I flipped immediately into damage-correction mode and washed and dried her hair, the better to determine just how bad the hackage was. The right side: just under the shoulder. The left side: just under the chin. I had no recourse other than to even her hair out all the way around.
Frank laughed. Hard. The fartknocker.
I should have taken a picture, specifically for future blackmail purposes. I wasn't thinking straight, with it only being 7 in the morning when she got happy with the scissors. Damned those advanced fine motor skills of hers.
Still, she really is cute with this new do of hers, and picture or not, I will still one day torture her with this story.
I never did anything stupid like whack my hair or my eyebrows. Did you? Do tell.