Before we left for the “Great White North” an odd, recurring incident had us a little confused. I started finding curls on the floor. Not a lot, mind you, but enough to know they were curls of hair. Only one of my children currently has curls in her hair. When I asked Annabelle about it, she kind of pretended she didn’t know what I was talking about. But I made sure to monitor her scissor usage . . .
Then we got to Canada and we’re in a big house and I can’t always see what everyone is doing. Last night, I found Annabelle had taken some craft supplies up to Katherine’s bedroom (where there’s a little desk) so she could work on something without the baby getting into it. I was cleaning up pencils and crayons and looking for the lid of the glue stick when I saw them – three beautiful curls on the floor. I went down and asked Annabelle about it and she said matter-of-factly, “I cut it.”
“Why?”
“Because I want a shortcut.”
OK then. Since she kept cutting the hair near her face and didn’t cut it very short, her hair didn’t look too bad. But I figured she’d keep at it until she thought her hair was short enough, so off to the stylist we went!
Before:
During:
And after:
She loves it! 
Well she looks adorable! I can’t believe how long it was! And it could have been much, much worse. At least she didn’t ask Lizzie to do it for her.