I'm not the only one who got a haircut. I finally made good on my threats to cut the girls' hair. I wasn't so dumb that I yelled, "That's it! If you don't let me comb your hair I'm cutting it off as short as Daddy's," as I might have once or twice earlier this year. How do you think that trip to the hairstylist would have gone? Instead I calmly called my friend's sister and set up appointments. Then I said in a falsely cheerful voice, "We're all going to get summer haircuts girls, and today we'll celebrate our last day of long hair with fancy hairstyles." All the while I was thinking, "And then you can stop screaming every time I pick up a comb." For the last day of long hair I gave them french braids (which they never let me do). And then we headed off for our fun and exciting haircuts.