Picture this: I am sitting on the top step of our staircase, elbows resting on my knees, hair in a ponytail. Little Wet-den, as he calls himself, comes up from behind me, leans his body against my back and says, "here-ya-go, Mommy. Here-ya-go."
Next, I hear this familiar sound but I cannot immediately place it. I turn to stand and face his sweet little two-year-old self and realize that the "familiar sound" was kitchen scissors to my ponytail!!
I was so dumbfounded I just stood there, with my mouth gaping open trying to process what may have just happened. Stories from Ang's blog flashed in my head. Did I just enter a Window into their world??
My expression got him wondering, I guess, and so he asked: "Wut-da maddow, Mommy? Wut-da maddow?"
He was so innocently baffled as to my dumbfounded reaction that I could not be angry. He clearly thought he was being helpful. Thankfully, the damage amounts to about 50 hairs all about 2 inches long. Hardly noticable (so i think, anyway).
Safe to say that I will be somewhat more diligent about putting my scissors back where they belong...