Little Terror...(putting it nicely)

Well, it's finally happened. Grace's curiosity has claimed it's first real casualty. Somehow the child cracked the screen of my Macbook. I am totally bummed. Thank goodness we have a PC or I might have lost my mind. I've been pricing out screens and we have a really good computer guy, so hopefully it will be up and running pretty soon. I am just grateful the laptop wasn't seriously injured. I really need to be more proactive about keeping important stuff out of reach. Grace is quite determined I'll give her that. Even when I have things on high surfaces she will drag a chair over and...TADA! What a little smartie! The other day she found her way onto my desk and used a pair of scissors to ventilate her pajamas. Thank goodness they were kid scissors.

I am awaiting the day when she decides to "trim" her hair. Doesn't EVERY kid do that? I know I have done it on a few occasions. I would come to the conclusion that my bangs were too long to properly feather or flip (remember those days?) and instead of telling my mom to take me in for a trim...out come the scissors. It took only one time for me to learn that it is not the BEST idea to wet and pull down on your bangs while you cut them. Wow, they must've been an inch long! (One of the only times I have felt blessed to have a short forehead.)

My most memorable attempt at being a hair stylist was when I was in 5th grade. You'd think by that age I would know better...you'd think. I was with my friend as she had a professional put layers around her face. What on earth made me think I could pull off the same thing? (Now you see the down side of confidence.) I went home, got the scissors and went to the mirror. I grabbed a huge chunk of hair that hung beside my face...and lopped it off...straight across...at ear level. Holy Crap, I panicked! Instead of stopping there, what did I do? I lopped off the other side for balance of course. So here I am with huge, ear level chunks cut out of the sides of my hair and it nice and long everywhere else. I had given myself a MULLET! My mom cried when she saw me. The hair stylist she took me to had a nice chuckle. And thus was born my "Dorthy Hamel do"...