A few weeks ago I took my three year old to get a haircut. She was beyond thrilled to go. She loves any, and all kinds of appointments. Dentist, doctor, you name it... but nothing beats the overpriced haircut that results in a trip to what resembles a young child's paradise. Cartoons on TV's, (note: my kids refuse to watch TV at home) fun music, a complimentary butterfly hair clip, a plastic, piece of crap toy and you guessed it, a lollipop. Her younger sister gets all this fun crap too, just for tagging along. Anyway, I continue to bring my kids to this money pit place because A. They enjoy it, and B. Anyone who is brave enough to go at a small child's head with a sharp object, and can actually be successful at it, is considered a talented pro in my book. Props to anyone who can cut a kids hair without making it look like a hack job. I've seen my share of hack job haircuts out there. You'll never catch me with scissors.
As usual my kids walked away happily sucking on their pops, and I was happy with the great job they did with her hair. Lanie, my oldest, will often devour her pop in one bite, while Charlotte tends to nurse hers. One.lick.at.a.time. This can go on for hours... No joke. When we got home I brought the girls into their playroom when it soon dawned on me that Charlotte was no longer holding her pop. Her hand was spared from the usual kung-fu grip. (A defense tactic she uses in attempts to keep it away from her jealous sister who ate her pop about an hour ago.) I asked where she put it. She kept saying "I share". Share with who? "I share". I searched for about 20 minutes and could not find it anywhere. This drove my slightly OCD self into a panic. Where the hell is it?!? Two weeks later, after several unsuccessful searches, my oldest found the pop. It was stuck to a life size stuffed duck. Aaah, she "shared" with the duck. This was not only a sense of relief that the pop was found, but a sense of accomplishment due to the fact that we now have one less jumbo sized, stuffed creature in this house. That duck made his way right to the trash barrel. Don't worry, my kids didn't even notice since they have plenty of other life sized stuffed animals creeping around here.
This week I decided to take my youngest, Charlotte, for her first hair cut. She did great, and again, I was very pleased with the outcome... A great haircut. Despite my oldest getting all the usual junk that comes with tagging along, she was floored that she was not getting her hair cut too. I explained to her that she just had her hair cut a couple of weeks ago, and she'll get another one next time. She responded loudly with - "I am going to run away and be Ke$ha." Ummm okay, she's three. She only knows Ke$ha from the radio in the car. She loves music, and will often ask who sings every song that comes on. Yes, I am guilty of listening to the radio verses The Wiggles... But seriously, it could have been worse. She could have said Nicki Minaj or something. It was kind of embarrassing, but on a good note, she did not attempt to run away.
As usual we got home and went into the playroom, and like always Lanie's pop was finished eons ago, and Charlotte had hers clenched in her fist for safe keeping. As I ran into the other room to answer the phone I suddenly heard "Oh no! What's that? What's that in my hair?" I ran back to the room, and sure enough Lanie was standing there with a sticky, orange lollipop dangling and knotted in the back of her hair. I'm not sure if Charlotte decided to "share" again, or if this was some sort of attempt by Lanie to get a haircut. Needless to say, she did not get a haircut. All she got was a bath. No more lollipops! Well, at least until the next haircut.
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