You better believe I cried when I'd assessed the damage.
And then she cried because I was crying and then she puked all over her bed because she was crying so hard.
And all I could think was, "She kind of looks like Ben Franklin."
And then I estimated her haircut at a 9 on the mullitude scale.
And then I rocked back and forth muttering to myself.
She'd managed to cut the entire crown of her head from front to back.
In some places it's to the scalp.
The only reason she didn't cut more than that was because it was pulled back into a braid.
When I asked her why, she said, "Well, I didn't want it to get too long."
After much hand wringing and a call placed to the father of this child (she's not mine when she does stuff like this), I proceeded to put her in the tub, undo the braid, and wash her hair, pulling handful upon handful of cut hair off of her head.
And I cried.
It took three hours and a text and a call to Husband's hair dresser to decide the course of action we should take.
Shave it. Just bloody shave it.
So I did.
She kind of looks like she has mange.
And she definitely looks like a boy.
She's very worried about the looking like a boy part. Hopefully she's scared enough never to do it again.
This is what it looked like last night and then this morning:
I tried to put this flower on her and she said, "I don't want to wear this. It will make me look ridiculous."
It's a bit late to think of looking ridiculous, now isn't it?
This morning we took her to Cracker Barrel looking like this:
Again, she refused all girly accessories (the crown included).
I wonder what people thought.
Maybe she's sick.
Maybe her parents are some of those people who encourage their 3-year-old to be transgender.
Maybe she had a really bad case of lice.
Other than looking like a boy, though, she's already totally over it. I, on the other hand, get a little bit of a shock every time I look at her. All like, "OH. EM. GEE. What happ...oh, yeah, you cut off all your hair."