Monday, August 31, 2009
some one once said
the apples don't fall far from the tree....
I must admit,I have prided myself on that theory not being true, UNTIL I had my daughter. (attitude in spades)
So today was the first day of school for everyone. I did not break into song or dance as I walked them to school, although I will admit there were flowers and chirping birds, but it was AWFULLY sunny out this morning. Yet I digress.
After dinner, I am helping the hubs disassemble kimberly's bed (that he has been making) from out of the living room. -THAT is another story.
Two sets of footsteps come THUNDERING up the stairs. (I was starting to question what the ped's said about their weight. there is NO WAY on God's acre that a 43 lb and a 55lb child can make THAT much noise) Anyhow, Alex shouts out "I DIDN'T DO IT!!!!! I TOLD HER TO DO IT, BUT I DIDN'T THINK SHE WOULD DO IT, I WAS JUST JOKING"
"Do what?", I calmly ask, (while inwardly cringing) "This", Kimbelry replies and shows me her hands. In one, is a pair of pink pinking shears, and in the other is a WAD of hair. Pretty golden colored hair, who's tresses had known up to this point, only the beautician's scissors. NOT the sawed off edge of a pair of pinking shears.... Holy hell. My dayghter DID NOT just cut her own hair, did she? "Look Mama", she says. "It didn't hurt at all, and I did it all by my self" SUPER. (note to self, lock up any sharp or blunt instrument RESEMBLING a scissor)
NOW, let's rewind to the whole formentioned apple/falling from tree thought shall we?
when I was five-ish (I will say I am closer to 6, but I cannot be 100 percent sure)any how, I had hair down to my butt. Yup, long wavy dark hair all the way down to my behind. (hey, it was the 70's and I was cool). I hated my long hair. Scratch that, I HATED having my long hair combed and curled by mom. HATED it. To this day I still cringe in the beautician's chair if she brings out a rod curling iron... I always wanted shorter Farrah Faucet-ish hair, but no go. Mom and dad though m,y longhair was pretty. Mom worked nights, so one night, while she was at work, and I knew the other kids were up in their rooms, I took it upon my self, to cut my hair, since I wanted it cut and no one else would do it for me. I placed the scissors next to my temple, and SNIP. Cascading to the ground, came one of my dark tresses. I surveyed what I had done, and realized that I would be in a HEAP of trouble for doing so. So, I did the only logical thing. I picked up said hair, and cut it up into itty bitty pieces, so it would look like the dog's hair, and I placed it in the ash tray.. I figured that I should not give the older kids any trouble going to bed, lest I blow my cover... The damage was discovered the next morning while on the bus...
and the story only gets better, but I wills top there.
I am so cutting down that god forsaken apple tree.....