Fringe

Our girl gave herself a fringe. When asked if she had cut her hair, Missy firmly shook her head no. I told her that it was obvious that there had been some hair tampering and could she show me where she had hidden it away. Still nothing, just a steely stare. After much toing and froing with the questioning and a little bribery, she finally showed me her stash, hidden carefully behind the spices.

A week later we are used to the new do. I have to admit she did a pretty good job. This is all her own handiwork. Our girl has the slipperiest and shiniest hair. It rarely stays in a hair tie no matter how tight I wrap it. All along this fringe was the answer to our messy hair problem. When asked why she cut her hair Missy's answer was simple: "Mum, it was in my face". Simple.