I don't have these problems

In the category of "old news," and I can't believe that I haven't written about this one yet. In the latter half of the winter all three females in the house obtained significantly shorter hair -- one by accident, one by appointment, and one by self.

She-Who-Bought-A-New-Curling-Iron-Recently was the one with the accident. Let's call it a curling iron malfunction and leave it at that.

Genevieve wanted a hair cut because she needed help to cease chewing her hair. She did hers the adult way, which is to say she went to a scheduled appointment with a hair professional.

One night toward the conclusion of dinner with a friend, after the two children were dismissed from the table they disappeared to the far end of the house. Soon, Genevieve came back and whispered into her mother's ear.

"Aaiiiieeee!" screamed She-Who, and ran to the other end of the house. This was followed by lots of three-year old bawling. I arrived at our bathroom to find Reesa standing in the dry bathtub, and She-Who was preparing to even out the hair cut that Reesa had given herself.

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Following up on this past Sunday's post, I just have to say:
HOLY MOLEY, I'M IN 6TH PLACE IN THE JOHNNY QUEST MEMORIAL CANDY BASKETBALL POOL. It's my fifteen minutes of fame. (Sad, isn't it?)