'Someday I'll step on their freckles, Some night I'll straighten their curls'
She was terrible I tell you. No wonder they tried to hide in the laundry to escape her.
I don't know who would put a floozy in charge of an orphanage. All for a storyline I suppose. But don't you love Carol Burnett? I can hear her singing the song in my head.
I grew up with girls. I had only sisters, mostly female cousins, and a slew of aunts. We had boys speckled in there somewhere, I mean they were needed I suppose, it only made sense. My cousin Ryan was specifically the only boy for quite some time on family vacations and he would have to play dress up, be in shows we put on, paint his nails, all to fit in. I am certain that now he would never admit to it. But for a period of time there was 5 girls, 1 boy. Tough times, what was he to do? If anything, Ryan is probably one of the funniest people I know, so I suppose he gained a great sense of humor and outlook on life, because he had to make the best of it. Girls do not play with trucks in dirt when there is 4 other females dangling Barbies in fancy dresses in front of them.
I am fascinated with little girls. I think their imaginations will never be matched. Presently I am blessed with one aspiring actress. I say it now, and then it will never happen, I hope that I am blessed with another. You know how much I love my little man, and how the sun rises and sets on his sweet little dimple, but little girls I get. Ethan always leaves me full of surprises. I have a hard time anticipating what is next. The other day he had all of his matchbox cars in a perfect line, wrapping around living room furniture. I proclaimed, 'there it is, you did it, boys do that, wow, that is really cool E.' I proceeded to get down to his level and started moving the cars through the traffic jam. Apparently you do not do this. Lesson learned. I was quickly pushed aside, yelled some things that I really couldn't make out, huffed and puffed at as he went back to fixing what I had apparently destroyed.
Now with girls I know what to expect next. I know where Kendall is going with her imaginative play, what she wants me to say or do, and where the conversation is going to end up before she even gets there. I know she will be fascinated with make up application, and that if I let her put on some blush she will be as happy as a pig in mud for the entire day and constantly glance at herself in the mirror. I know that she dreams big. I know that she thinks that if she tries hard enough, and stomps her feet loud enough she will get her way.
Little girls are always in search of justice. What is fair, what is unfair, what she has and she doesn't. And the dramatics that ensue are nothing short of academy nominee worthy. Little girls follow with their emotions when it comes to justice, ok, and so do the big girls.
If you do not have a high tolerance for whining, the tossing of oneself on the floor, the moods, the uncontrollable sobbing, then I forewarn you about having a little girl. Study. Kendall is constantly prompted to stop crying by her Daddy when the situation at hand as long been over. She simply replies, 'but I just can't.' And I get it. Sometimes a girl just can't stop crying. We just can't. It is in our genetics to be theatrical.
Kendall has now moved on to the long and drawn out conversations of what happened, when it happened, and what she thought about what happened. Girls are bred to leave out no detail. None. Get comfy. What I love most is the use of hands when the story is coming to a climax and a point is trying to be made, and I also secretly love that she says the word, 'like,' a million times during her 20 minute tirade. Andy is on me constantly, constantly for saying, 'like,' when I am talking. I can't help it, I know it is valley girl talk from 1995, it is just part of me. I will be 90 years old saying, 'and then I was like, what do you mean I don't have anymore depends left, and she was like, I am sorry I will have to run to the store and get you more.' I just passed the lingo on, what's up now, Daddy?
Little girls always want to be older then what they are. Kendall wants to ride the school bus, she wants to go off the diving board at the township pool, she wants put on her own nail polish. When they play they are the Mommy, or the grown up working. Kendall right now tells me she wants to be a hair dresser when she gets older. She is in love with long hair, and is on the life long pursuit for long lucious locks that she can swoosh back and forth and not wear in a ponytail.
Which leads me to my biggest entertainment when it comes to little girls. The cutting of the hair. The taking of the scissors into their tiny hands and cutting their own hair and sometimes a friends too. Because it all goes back to little girls wanting to be bigger, and big girls cut hair, and guess what I can too. Both of my nieces did this. My little cousin Kaitlyn who lives out west decided to 'trim,' her bangs up to her scalp 2 years ago for the first day of school. The outcomes are never ever pretty. It is never a style that you want to copy. But just the same, I find it hilarious. I know, I know what you are thinking, now Kendall is going to cut her hair and I won't be laughing anymore. You are probably right, but I can still find everything up until that point funny, and I give you full permission to laugh at me when it happens. Just don't laugh at her. I never laugh at the little girl, I always compliment the style. I mean she has to deal with a devastated mother, the least I can do for her and her mother is to boost her spirits. You have go to make the most of that. There is no fixing that mess. Hair does grow back, and that my friends is the only good thing about the entire situation.
With all of that in mind I ask you to take a moment of silence for my dear friend Kellie and her daughter Emma's hair.
Ok now that that is over, I will explain quite possibly the worst child produced hair cut in my history of observing them. I am sorry Kellie, but it was. Let me set up the scenario for you as told to me after I examined the photos and called Kellie laughing hysterically. I am certain she really appreciated my sympathy. But I just could not help it. I apologized profusely, but the laughing and the tears could not stop. She forgave me, really she did. She knows I am obnoxious like that.
So here we go. Emma was out playing nicely with her friends one lovely afternoon. My friend Kellie was still at work, and Emma and her sister Meghan were home with their Daddy. Isn't that funny? I am not going to go into the irony of that simple statement, all you mom's know. Scott, their Daddy, of course thought they must be playing nicely, it was quiet after all. Out in Kellie's backyard there was a pair of scissors left out. They had been trimming flowers, grass, I don't know, but they were left out. Next door to Scott and Kellie there is a home that has been abandoned due to foreclosure. Tough times, people, tough times, count your blessings. So anyway. This house has a little carport and many of the children like to pretend it is a house so on and so forth. So long story short. An older girl gets a hold of the scissors and decides that she and Emma, and perhaps some others need a haircut. And a haircut it was. Kellie's mom was there at the time Emma returned home and nearly died on the spot. Emma came to the door and I am certain shrieking filled the air. Scott I am certain jumped up like his pants were on fire expecting he would find a bloody mess, but what he saw I am certain was almost as bad at that moment. One might choose 5 to 6 stitches over a massacre to the hair, I'm just sayin.
Now knowing Scott and Kellie, I am certain his instant action was not a result of Emma being upset. She wasn't. But even if she was, I am certain that Scott sprung into action because of only one thing. 1. Fear of the wrath and reaction of his wife. He quickly got Emma together, went to the house of the perpetrator to show what had occurred to her mother, and then whisked her off to get the mess fixed as much as he could before Kellie returned from work. He never called her to let her know what was going on. He will say that he didn't want to upset her. I say, he was trying to clean up the broken vase before she got home, and knew that his attempt to glue to back together would gain him some merit. I love men. So hair was fixed as much as possible. Then he had to wait for her to get home. I am sure he was pacing, nervous, and biting his nails.
Kellie got home, said her hello's, glanced into the living room, was about to ask aloud, 'who is that in the living room with Meghan,' when Emma said, 'Hi Mommy!' Can you imagine!?!? I of course busted out laughing at this part. But at the time, Kellie stated that she needed some time alone and went to her room to mourn. Once she gathered herself she talked with Emma, and Emma seemed fine with the entire thing. We will thank her for not being so concerned about her vanity right now. Thank you Emma, you are a fine, fine girl.
Darling Emma and her sister, a few days after the incident.
Now let me explain the direction of the cut. It started right there in the front at the scalp, and followed around to the side at that same level just past the ear. You can see where they struggled with the thickness of Emma's hair but still were intent on getting the job done.
Here is the thing. Emma is starting Kindergarten. Kellie's present dilemma is whether or not to explain to the teacher what happened. Well she look stupid to the teacher if she states why Emma's hair is so short, like it even matters? Or should she say nothing and risk looking like some terrible mother who cuts little girls hair short? I don't know. I told her to have her wear a tee shirt that says, 'My friend cut my hair.' Actually, it is starting to look so much better then the initial results, proving that hair does grow fast. Oh these school pictures will bring back so many memories for years to come. She is a poster child regarding the issue surrounding little girls and scissors.
Emma now, she is still so cute.
Hide your scissors, I know I do.