A Cut Above

So after reading today’s blog post, it’ll be abundantly clear that I’m vying for my “Parent of the Year” trophy.

My kiddos decided to climb into the dry tub and play with their bath toys. I thought it was a good, safe place for them to be and started to fix breakfast. Then Justus walks out with my razor.
“Mama, do you need a haircut?”
“OH JUSTUS! Baby you can’t touch that. It’s very dangerous. Are you okay? Are you bleeding? Is Sissy bleeding?”
I frantically looked him over and then ran to check on his sister. He looked at me like I was crazy. “No mom. We’re not hurt.”
We had a very serious talk about not touching Mommy’s razor and then went on with our day.

In no big rush, we Skyped with Daddy and then took turns getting dressed. Finally I put on a movie and sat Thalia on my lap to fix her hair. I took out one of the previous day’s pig tails and started combing. A huge clump of hair came off her head.

My first thought was, “Oh my God there is something horribly wrong with my child.” But she seemed her normal, happy self. It was just the one clump. I couldn’t see a bald spot where it would’ve released from her skull.
Then it clicked.
“JUSTUS! Did you cut your sister’s hair?!”
“Um, yes.”
“Oh Justus.”

You can just see the short wispy strands on the top of little miss Captain America's head
You can just see the short wispy strands on the top of little miss Captain America’s head

Apparently while they were playing in the tub he took the razor, took the cover off, and ran it over the top of her hair, taking off a thin layer and leaving strands about an inch long behind in a stripe down her part.
He asked if I needed a haircut because he’d already given her one.

The future Mister Vidal Sassoon.
The future Mister Vidal Sassoon.

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