Max Grants Lauren's Wish (alt title Lauren Smiles, Mom Sobs)

Or, quiet children is rarely a good thing.

I should probably wait another day or two until I can really laugh about this before posting, but here goes anyway.

Yesterday, Lauren came to me with the kids' scissors and said she wanted a hair cut. I told her that scissors were for cutting paper, not hair and she repeated that she wanted a hair cut and I asked if she really wanted one and she said yes, and I told her, okay, the next time she went with Daddy to get his cut, she could get hers cut, too, and she said okay and got some paper and happily started cutting. Max was in his room when we had this conversation (we were in mine). All seemed good. I should have known better. I went off to do some laundry. I thought Max was getting ready to go to the park. When I came back up, I called to Max to ask him if he was ready to go and he said, happily "No, I am giving Lauren a haircut." NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! I run in and find her happily sitting there, surrounded by what had been her beautiful, waist length hair. "I getting hair cut Mommy!" said Lauren. I started crying. Max explained to me (after I had calmed down a bit) that Lauren had asked him to cut her hair. "I was granting Lauren's wish." I actually believe him. It didn't make me happier, though.

After leaving a sobbing message on my hairdresser's machine ("I know you are closed today but can you possibly fit us in tomorrow. Please call me when you are open again.") we went to the park and I felt a bit better. Josh was surprisingly amused by the whole thing for a guy who has been saying over his dead body would we be cutting her hair. He thinks she looks cute, and she does. I was actually pretty surprised by my reaction, but realized that I never managed to grow my own hair that long, and people always commented on how pretty her hair was. But, it is only hair. There are many worse things in life.

I took her to get it cleaned up this afternoon and it looks much better now. Max and I had a long talk while it was being cut. I explained that the woman cutting it had special tools and had gone to school to learn to cut hair. He asked "Can I take that class?" He also told her that "I started it for you."

The scissors are going to be locked up until he is old enough to drive.

I realize that the real impact of this can't be felt without a before picture (though the pile is pretty big), so I am adding a picture of her hair a few months before it was cut.