Hey y'all -
Can't believe I haven't mentioned this yet.
Back in July, our very, very dear friends the Crossleys came to visit. Karen and I met when we were both drama majors at UVa, and we became best friends when we were both struggling whatevers in LA. Now we have matching families - we each had a girl within a few months of each other, and then a few years later repeated the feat when we each had a boy within a few months.
Their visit this summer was fairly epic.
We went to Lake Como and Georgetown Lake. All the kids canoed and swam. Your dad bought a paddleboard and got really good at maneuvering it around.
We saw a moose!
When we weren't out exploring, our backyard looked like a day care exploded.
We went to lots of local parks, and the sprayground.
And those things are all well and good, but I'm sure that when we look back on this vacation five or ten years from now, we won't remember any of that. Instead, this is the reason this vacation will live in infamy:
Grandma Sue offered to watch all four kids while the grown-ups enjoyed a nice dinner out on the town. When we got home from dinner, Sue met us on the front porch. She wanted to prepare us for what was inside. Seems that while Sue was putting the two boys to bed downstairs, the girls went upstairs to play dress-up like they done a hundred times before. Noticing that things had gotten quiet up there, Sue went up to Laney's room to investigate, and discovered that the girls had each cut their own hair.
Laney had cut herself a little fringe bang, which was bad, but not Earth-shattering in its awfulness. Samantha, on the other hand, had cut off 80-90% of her hair. I cannot overstate how dramatic a haircut Samantha had given herself. I will always be proud of Karen for not sobbing when she saw it, and I'm not going to test her emotional reserves here by posting a picture of the back of Sam's head post-haircut. Too soon.
For days, I was scooping up little mounds of blonde hair from unexpected places. (I threw a credit card next to this mound for a size reference).
Both girls had to have emergency fix-up haircuts.
And here's the thing: they both came out looking even cuter than they had before. They went from this:
To this:
Fortunately, Samantha falls into the 5% of the female population that can really pull off a pixie cut.
Everyone stayed remarkably calm and Karen and I remain friends.
I'll let you know when this becomes a fond memory or at least a charming anecdote. 'Til then, keep your hands off my scissors.
Love,
Mom
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