Zuzu got out of bed this morning a little reluctantly. She'd taken a (short) nap at school yesterday, which pushes back bedtime from 7:30-8pm to 8:30-9pm. But she was up! I heard her in her bedroom, choosing her clothes for the day (not my favorite ensemble, but it wasn't aggressively attacking the color wheel, so that's refreshing).
At one point as I walked from the bathroom back to my bedroom, I noticed that Zuzu was no longer in her bedroom. It's a bit unusual for her to go downstairs without me, but she loves to exercise her independence by getting out the breakfast supplies, so I assumed that was what she was doing. By the time I finished getting dressed, she was back upstairs and I saw her in my peripheral vision as I was putting on mascara.
"Hi, sweetie," I said, leaning toward the mirror the way you do when you put on mascara. "Can you check and see if your sister's awake?"
A moment later I heard the two of them giggling in Coco's crib, and I went into the Coco's room and lifted her out of bed, ready to carry her to the bathroom. Zuzu climbed out of the crib and we were chattering about breakfast and pancakes.
And then I gasped, staggered, set Coco down, and nearly collapsed.
I covered my mouth with my hands and started crying.
When questioned as to her motive, she replied: "I didn't want my bangs on my face."
I think we've pretty well established that this child is shameless, but when she realized that I was crying, she said, "I'm sorry, Mommy. I won't do this EVER again."
We have Christmas photos scheduled for Saturday. The girls in their Christmas dresses. And now, with big-ass bows on their heads.
This enormous pile of hair, along with our kitchen scissors (taken from the drawer where they belong, which she knows are only for grown-ups to use), was in the corner of the TV room, half hidden behind a curio cabinet.
(The scissors are now relocated to a top shelf in the pantry.)
She obviously knew she wasn't supposed to be doing this, because she snuck downstairs and cut her hair while hiding in the corner and facing the wall.
I know it will be funny in a few years. But mercy. It's so terrible. I think I'm still in shock.