There I was, thinking this blog was going to move away from talking about the Bratlings as, frankly, now they are toilet trained, sleeping through the night and happy to amuse themselves, they make for pretty lacklustre blog fodder, when Mini had to pull a stroke of epic proportions.
As many will know from watching her grow up from a precocious 2 year old to a Diva-ish 5, Mini has long hair. She always has had long hair, and she’s been to a hair dressers only a few times. Yes, the length of her hair is annoying and takes ages to plait before school, not to mention to comb the two times she got nits last year, but its worth it.
Well, it was.
You know how Mini loves to sort her own clothes and likes to think of herself as a stylish little thing? Well, it seems she was bored of merely choosing her clothes, shoes and bags.
She thought she’d have a pop at her hair too.
I sent her to bed at 8 last night- she likes watching The Simpsons, then Big Bang Theory, and as the holidays are (thankfully) drawing to a close, she wont be able to stay up late much longer. Its not even dark until 10pm now so she often sits upstairs looking at books and playing Barbies. Which is fine, as she sleeps later.
All was normal up there, and I went to bed myself at about 11pm.
I got up at 7.30 as the neighbours are having their roof tiles replaced and their builders decided to start at 6.30, so I gave up trying to sleep and got dressed. Elder wanted to pop out to collect a parcel and grab some bits for our trip to Kent tomorrow and the kids sleep over at his eldest sister’s house, so he got the Bratlings dressed. He then asked me to chuck a hair brush down for Mini.
I then heard him getting increasingly concerned as he brushed. So I asked- what’s going on after he had asked her “what have you done to your hair Mini?”
I imagined that she may have gotten crumpet in it- she often gets chocolate spread or cheese in it in the morning as she chews her breakfast whilst half asleep and her hairs so long it kind of ends up going in too. Or perhaps she’d put some more glitter in like last week.
Oh no, nothing so boring as that.
She had, it seems, used a pair of kids “supposedly too feeble to cut butter” scissors from her art box to chop off whole chunks of hair from around her ears.
She was, we learned later, trying to copy Jessie J’s hairdo. She loves Jessie J, and I was always more inclined to allow this love than that of Justin Bieber’s musical earworms. Now I wish I hadn’t.
She looked ridiculous, all the really long hair was still at the back, reaching to her bottom, but the sides and some of the top was varied in length from to her shoulder to the top of her ears.
I know, how ridiculous, cutting your hair is nothing, it’ll grow back. But I have spent hours brushing that hair, and I loved how shiny and long it was.
Elder, sensing impending Mummy melt down, decided to usher her to the car and off to the hairdresser, who did the best she could.
The thing is, she finds the whole thing hilarious. She cried earlier and I asked if that was due to her showing me where she hid the hair (thank God she did as it was in a big furry ball shoved down the gap between her bed and table, I’d have thought it was a mouse and died) and wishing she still had long hair.
No, it was because she had upset everyone.
She loves her new “graduated bob” (ahem), says its not as heavy, doesn’t annoy her neck and she doesn’t feel as hot. She doesn’t regret it at all, she just wishes she’d let me take her to the hair dresser instead.
Her other comment was, whilst laughing her backside off, that it wasn’t her who cut it, it was a witch, who needed her hair for a spell. The bloody lunatic child.
The only thing she is slightly peeved over is that she may not get picked as an angel in the nativity, but a part from a this minor irritation, she is very happy with the outcome and fails to see that what she did was naughty. As she added before, its her hair, she should do what she likes with it- imagine what she’ll be like at 14 if this is what she is like at 5!
So, the days of long hair are over. For a year anyway at least.