Unloading Sara’s backpack, I found this lovely lock of hair.  It took me a moment to realize it was Sara’s (her hair is definitely getting darker).  I ran it upstairs and asked her what happened.  I wish I had the camera to record the look of panic on her face.  It doesn’t take a CSI agent to look at the top of that lock and realize she cut it.  I just wanted to see what she would say.  And in good Kindergarten form, as all 5 year olds are sure to do as a Rite of Passage, Sara:

THOUGHT OF A FALL GUY AND BLAMED IT ON SOMEONE ELSE!

As hard as I’ve found parenting to be, this one was easy.  I told her how sorry I was to hear, um, let’s call him, Mr. Innocent, had PULLED her hair out of her head (first story), and I was going downstairs to call her teacher and Mr. I’s Mommy immediately.  That’s when I got Story #2.  He cut it.

He CUT it.  Well, in that case, he should never be allowed to have scissors in class again.  I hope he doesn’t get sent to the Headmaster’s Office.  This is serious stuff.  He could have cut her neck! I don’t know how I kept a straight face, but for once in her life, she believed me.

That’s when I got Story #3.  SHE cut it, but it was a wildly unanticipated accident.  She was flailing her scissors all about, thinking about WHO KNOWS WHAT, and before she knew it, she had cut a lock of her own hair.  She doesn’t even know how it happened.

Let me get this straight, you were holding scissors, swinging them all about your head in some sort of a cutting frenzy (I guess the Pilgrims Unit has everyone excited), and not one teacher noticed this fit of slicing mayhem?  YES, she says. YES.  THIS is how it happened.

I let it go at that.  Knowing she was in deep doo-doo for lying, she broke into a sobbing spell that lasted a good while.  I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stop laughing.  I felt like I was in an episode of the Brady Bunch.  I couldn’t convince Sara that I wasn’t mad that she cut her hair.  What child doesn’t cut her own hair at some point?  Quite honestly, I find it hard to believe it took her 5 years to think of it.

Later the next week as I was putting Sara’s hair into a bun for ballet, I found the remaining strand of hair.  She cut her hair in the very back, quite close to the scalp.  Considering she has long hair and doesn’t wear ponytails, the “flailing about” story just went from “let’s leave it at that” to “highly improbable”.  That being said, I try not to pick battles regarding hair.  I have A LOT of hair.  It grows back, this much I know.  I didn’t say a word except to giggle under my breath.

Luckily, this is a lesson most kids usually only need to learn once.  I’ve said that out loud, so if the fates are up this late, they are sure to make Sara bald by Thanksgiving.

The story has a happy ending.  Sara’s hard core “I’m never getting bangs” stance was softened by her own foray into the “beauty operator” world.  She agreed to bangs this week.  She really doesn’t like ponytails or barrettes, and I really don’t like hair in her face, so we finally found a happy medium.  Kelly didn’t want to be left out of the action, and I told the beautician, “Chin length page boy with a bang trim”.  I turned around to check on Sara for one minute, and turned back to be greeted by my pixie doll.  She loves it (it’s her best friend’s hair cut).  I love it.  And for now, all is well in the health and beauty department at the Ranch.  That is sure to last for SECONDS, if not ONE WHOLE MINUTE.