wordless wednesday

there's something about haircuts that freaks me out a bit.  i think i traumatized myself for life at the age of nine, when i became so frustrated with my thin, wispy hair not staying in its barrette that i took matters into my own hands.  i marched into the kitchen right before leaving for the bus stop, grabbed the desk scissors, and took a good whack at my hairline right above my forehead.  (who needs a mirror -- or common sense -- when you're nine?)  for months afterward, i had this patch of hair resembling a crew cut that was so noticeable that classmates would reach over and pat it every time they were walking past my chair.  it took f-o-r-e-v-e-r to get rid of that thing.

so please understand that there's some history between me and haircuts.  i always try to err on the side of caution.  better too long than too short, i always say.

anyway, this week i knew susanna needed a haircut, since a) it's been about six months and b) the season of summer necessitating ponytails and pigtails is sadly almost over and c) she has her portrait being made next week and the ends were really looking stringy.  so i took her to our upscale salon of choice SuperCuts for their $10 children's special.  i showed the hairdresser the approximate amount of a trim i wanted by placing my fingers on susanna's hair and saying, "about here is good." 

and this is what i learned: units of measure were created for a reason.  when using your fingers, instead of, say, inches, you need to be specific.  like, are you talking about the top of your fingers, or the bottom?  i looked away for literally ten seconds to answer one of liam's never-ending questions, and when i turned back, there were three inches of wet hair on the floor when i meant for there to only be two.  and let me tell you something else i learned: an inch on a little girl's head makes a big difference.

and one final thing i learned: between the drastic chop and the head wound that has yet to clear up, i might need to reschedule her portraits.