Devil's Haircut.

I often find myself at a loss as to what to do with Penny's hair. More often than not, it's sticking straight up, which doesn't really bother me that much, because deep down, we embrace the punk rock lifestyle. But this week, she was really starting to look like a street urchin. Her hair was long on top and getting in her eyes, while the hair in the back was all stunted from sleeping on her back, with a nice little rat tail starting to come off the bottom. We were rapidly reaching mullet status.
Before:

I kept loudly hinting that it should be cut, but wasn't about to do it myself. I'm not very good with my own hair, and have never deviated much more from "ponytail" or "down." So I went to a place nearby which specializes in distracting children while scissors are brandished close to their heads. We got to pick a movie (Elmo) and our chair (the pink Cadillac), and then the stylist asked me what I wanted. I never know how to answer this question, even with my own stylist. Because the answer is always, "I want something that isn't this. Work your magic." I'm sure they love that.




P started to get nervous when another child started crying, which must be some kind of baby warning system to alert them to trouble. And it was just as the stylist was trying to cut Penny's bangs. P started trying to get out of her pink Cadillac, but those scissors were at eye level, so I had to bust out the binky. I'm not sure I can imagine life without the binky yet, although I keep saying we should ditch it.
After:

The pigtails were NOT my idea. But when she asked me if I wanted them, I thought, "Why not?" I'll take antennae over the mullet any day. Oh, and that scratch on her nose? That's from biffing it on the patio. Her little noggin hitting the cement made a sound I can only describe as the worst THUD I have ever heard. Followed by the longest pause I have ever heard prior to screaming. Fortunately, with a little ice, she was back on her feet again. Another moment in good parenting.