For the last two weeks our modem has been in its death throws. It could only last about 10 minutes before dying a horrible death. Do you have any idea how hard is it to regulate your internet access to 10 minutes a day? This weekend, Kevin got it fixed (with a little help from Comcast) and we are back on-line. Yes.

During this internet blackout, I’ve been trying to explain to Leina that Halloween is over. Her sense of time isn’t so hot. When I tell her we have to wait a year until next Halloween, she thinks about that and says, “so, we can go on Friday?” I’ve trying showing her a calendar and explaining days and weeks but she just gives me this squinty look and tells me to stop teasing her.

So, to distract her from halloween, I decided to wave the flag of Christmas.

“Halloween is over honey. Now it’s time for Christmas! You need to start thinking about what you want to ask Santa for.” All thoughts of trick-or-treating were instantly wiped from her mind and visions of sugar plums danced in her head. She mulled the concept of Santa over in her mind for a while and then, last week on our way to Safeway, she announced the following.

“Mommy, I know what I want from Santa. I’ve been a very good girl, you know, and I have this great idea! I think Santa should bring me… a pair…. of…. SCISSORS! Do you think he will? I reeeeealy reeeeealy want some scissors!”

I was dumbfounded. She could ask for anything from Santa and she wanted scissors? I tried explaining that she might be shooting a bit low but nothing would dissuade her. She was adament. All she wanted from Santa was a pair of scissors. Amazed and bemused, I took her down the school supply aisle at Safeway and picked out a pair of kid scissors and handed them to her. Her eyes grew wide, she began wiggling with happiness, clutched the scissors to her chest and began beaming joy at me declaring “this is the best day ever!!!” For the next few days, she was a scissors maniac. She snipped, she cut, she loved every minute of her new toy.

And then it happened.

On Friday, she came downstairs and announced she had cut her pony’s hair. I expected to see strands of pink or orange My Little Pony hair clasped in her hands. But while she held plenty of shorn locks in her hands, they were not neon. Oh no, they were brown. Curly brown hair. My first thought was, “where did we get a brown horse toy from?” That thought was quickly wiped from my mind as my eyes rose from her hands…. to her head. Yes, the “pony” in question was not of the My Little variety. No, the hair in her hands had come from her own head.

The whole left side of Leina’s head was shorn. As far as I could tell, she grabbed chunks of her own hair and snipped and snipped and snipped. The mound of beautiful curly locks where her very own. She had butchered her own hair.

I was stunned. First astonished silence. Then I fell off my chair laughing. Through the tears, I tried to explain to a very puzzled 3 year old that you NEVER NEVER NEVER cut your own hair. Leina processed this and then asked me…

“What about cutting sister’s hair?”

“Did you cut Kulia’s hair?!?!” I asked with panic in my voice.

“Just a little,” Leina replied, “and she was very good. She sat very still and didn’t cry or anything.”

Kulia trotted around the corner at this point and low and behold, her bangs were noticably shorter on one side. After a long talk and a visit to the hair cutters, Leina has learned a very valuable lesson and is sporting a nice layered looked; scissors are only for cutting paper. And I learned that a 3 year old and sharp scissors should not be left unsupervised. Ever.