The one where Miss 17 cut her own hair

When I came downstairs this morning I looked in on Miss 17 and reminded her that I had bought a subscription to “Crunchyroll” yesterday, which appeared to be enough to eject her out of bed. If you’ve never seen it, Crunchyroll is a streaming TV service that plays Anime. The younger children seemed pretty excited too – until they realised the shows are all subtitled – they can’t read fast enough to keep up. She got up pretty damn quickly, and I half expected to find her wiping sleep from here eyes in the lounge – instead I found her looking in the mirror in the hallway.

“Are you okay?”

She mumbled. I got concerned, dropped what I was doing, and wandered over to her.

“Is there something wrong?”

“I cut my hair…”

I didn’t quite know how to react. I think she was scared to death. She had cut about a foot off it – cutting it to just above her shoulders. I have to say – she had done a remarkably good job, because I didn’t even notice. I went and pre-warned my other half, who I think expected a hatchet job by her immediate reaction.

“Please don’t have a go at her – she’s scared to death that you will react badly”.

I think my other half was impressed too. We’re still going to invite a professional hair-dressing friend over to finish her hair off though – to cut some layers into it, and give it some shape. It could have been SO much worse.

The rest of the day has been a typical Sunday – my other half has gone out, and I’ve been lumped with washing clothes, tidying up, putting things away, and finding something to feed the endlessly hungry children. If Miss 13 walks in one more time and announces “I’m hungry” before looking for something to eat, I think I might explode.

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