Hair cut in a shopping cart

I should have brought my camera with me yesterday to capture darling daughter's first true professional hair cut. But like most things that happen in my life, it was a spur of the moment thing with absolutely no planning involved.

For the third time within the week, we were at our local mall, killing time as someone looked at our house. Our community mall is pretty small and there are only so many things you can do to entertain a toddler before you are pulling out your hair. While eating lunch, I instantly had an idea. The department store has a hair salon. Darling daughter needed a hair cut. And we had time to kill. Hair cut it was. This idea did not go over well with darling daughter, despite the fact she was cruising around in one of those kids buggies in the shape of cars.

I've cut darling daughter's hair in the past. The results haven't been good. After my second hair cut, I vowed that I should leave it up to the professionals.

Big tears rolled down her face as we waited. The hair stylist suggested that we use a shopping cart to keep her in during the hair cut. Off went dear husband to get a cart while I tried to calm down an upset two and a half year old.

The beginnings of a mullet have ended. While short, it is not straggly. I think darling daughter is still peeved at me because every time I tousle her hair, she says in a stern voice, not to touch her head. Ouch.

Business in the front, party in the back

Some things should be left to the professionals. I don't believe in do-it-yourself plumbing or fixing the motherboard of my laptop when it dies. So why did I think I could cut darling daughter's hair?

For weeks, if not months, I've been threatening to cut her hair, much to dear husband's chagrin. She was developing a serious mullet. Regardless if a mullet is on a hockey player, an aging 80's rocker or a toddler, they aren't cute. I should point out that dear husband doesn't like mullets. He just doesn't like the concept of cutting darling daughter's hair. I had to promise him that I'd save her hair clippings from her first official hair cut.

When she woke up from her afternoon nap, my tolerance for the mullet had reach its breaking point. I hate to say this, but the back of her hair looked like a straggly, nasty, matted rat's nest. It was horrible. To put the mullet out of its misery, I got out the scissors, wet down her hair and snipped. Well, I think I may have snipped a little too much. It isn't even in places and it sure in heck could be styled a bit better, but at least the mullet is gone. She kind of looks boyish, so I'll be dressing her in pink for the next week or two. And maybe if I'm lucky, she'll tolerate a hair clip. At least her hair is all business now. No party in the back to be found. Thank God. No way around it, mullets are horrible.