Too Long

There I was, just sitting on the couch minding my own business, when Divina arrives from the playroom and just stands if front of me. She stood there, just looking at me. I looked at her. A moment later she says "I think my hair was too long." Oh good god. With light speed I realize what could make her say such a thing and I say "Did you cut your hair?" She nods. I examine her head, which still contains all of the long beaded twists that took me two hours to make and three and half years to grow, except one, which now resembles a twisted stub.

Now, I believe every child, especially three year olds, will inevitably chop a lock, so I did not get angry, though I was sad to see the amputee. I said with complete calmness "I'm sorry, but I think I have to take away your scissors until you're old enough to be responsible with them." That made her cry but she was quickly distracted by Boobah. The preschool scissors are now up in the cabinet, along with a four inch string of pink beads.




(On a side note, you should know that Divina has been using the little scissors for some time now. Her dexterity is remarkable for her age. She's been way ahead with that milestone, being able to pick up a green pea before eight months old - it was six months as I recall, okay maybe seven. This was the first non-paper cut we've had in her entire six-month-scissors career.)