High Style

Dear Laney,

I don't know how you got the idea in your head, but one morning a few weeks ago, you told me you needed a haircut. I thought it was something you had seen on a cartoon - like Strawberry Shortcake had to drive her Candy Cadillac to Blueberry Beauty College to get herself a marshmallow updo. So I agreed with you - Yes! A haircut! - and then promptly forgot we'd ever had the conversation.

But a few days later, like any good administrative assistant, you followed up and asked, "Did you call the place with the haircut lady?" That's when I figured you were serious and booked you an appointment.

You sat in the big chair by yourself and discussed with Morgan the stylist how you'd like your bangs to look.

And when it was all said and done, you got a lollipop for being so nice.

Things took a turn for the much-worse right after I took this picture, so I suspect this was a demon seed-flavored lollipop held together by hell's minion sugar syrup.

When it came time to leave the farmer's market, you didn't want to walk, and you didn't want to ride in the wagon. You wanted to scream and fake cry. I told you that if you were going to act like a baby, I was going to treat you like one, so I plopped you in Hagen's stroller. You thrashed around in that thing like a angry badger in a cardboard box. Thank God Grandma Sue was the one pushing you, so I could walk 25 feet in front of you and pretend I didn't know you. It was so bad that even Grandma Sue told you to sit your behind down and hush.

When we got home, you marched up to your room in a tizzy, slammed your door behind you and screamed, "THIS IS NOT A FUN DAY!" To my credit, I didn't run up the stairs to 1) beat you with a stick and 2) explain how little I cared about the level of fun you were having.

An hour or so later, you came downstairs and apologized for being mean to me. You must have been convincing, because the next day, I took you out shopping for a new swimsuit.

Every ten minutes, you'd ask, "Am I being good now? Am I being so good?"

Yes. For now. But I'm not going to get too comfortable.

Love,
Mom