I'm having one of those, "Oh. That's right. We have four kids." weeks. It's kind of hard to explain to someone without four... it's this exhausting, but strangely fun, place where each person has different things going on and you're not sure who should be where and what they need to be doing.
So... here's a Possum problem. And, since someone noticed it (you guys are good!), I'll explain.
This was P3's hair last week.
And, this is her hair this week.
As my eagle-eyed reader noticed, she decided that her long hair was "bothering her". So, you know...instead of telling PDaddy or I. She did what any kid does when there are pinking shears and decorative scissors around. *chop*
Now...until she did this, I had no idea how attached to her hair I was. In fact, she did it before bed and, knowing I'd cry, PDaddy didn't tell me she'd done it until a day later. Why did I cry? Well, she didn't have ANY hair until she turned three. No, really.
And, when it did come in - it came in in these beautiful, fine, blond curls. She was the first child who had my hair. I'd not cut her hair, yet. Ever. She did it herself. And, it was a hack job. So, that is why her hair is now about five inches shorter (and not curly). Lesson? Possums and scissors do not mix.