The Barber Shop

I was sitting at the computer one night a few weeks ago enjoying some much needed quiet time. "What's wrong with that?" you're wondering. "You work hard. You deserve it." You're totally right. I do work hard. I do deserve it. Something was wrong though...it was quiet...too quiet. You know the feeling, you're sitting there, kind of spaced out, enjoying the quiet when you suddenly realize that it has been too quiet for too long. So when I came out of my daze, I decided to investigate. I walked into the bathroom and literally shrieked as I saw Maya standing, looking in the mirror, the sharp scissors in her hand, a pile of her hair on the floor. She really thought she had done a good job, and it was pretty good, considering it was a first attempt. I tried not to totally freak out so she wouldn't get upset, but I did explain that we don't cut our own hair. The next day, I took her to a hair cutting place down the street and asked the lady to do what she could to minimize the damage. It is pretty short, but not boy-short and she didn't even really have to cut the bangs. She said Maya had cut them quite evenly herself. So here are some pictures of Maya's new haircut, which is actually growing on me: