scissors

The other day, Mary told me she wanted to cut her hair. I told her that we have to wait to go to the beauty shop to do that. I went into the kitchen to cook dinner and she was quiet for a long time...too long. At dinner that night, I noticed a couple strands of hair on her place mat, but brushed them off without any thought. Doug then noticed a nice size clump of hair on her bib. Uh-oh. I asked Mary where the hair came from and where did she get scissors. She took my hand and walked me to the bathroom to show me where she had placed her stool and reached a pair of scissors that Doug had left and the scattered wisps of hair. Good thing she has so much of it. I couldn't tell where she had cut, but her ponytail was a bit askew.

This morning, it was definitely my fault. I used the big scissors this morning and apparently left them within reach. I screamed, "NO!!!!" when I saw she was cutting her bangs and of course, she started crying. Here are the pics, because I just had to grab the camera and take pictures before I soothed her.