Lopped of locks

I'm not sure what I was thinking, going to a kids' hair salon in the early afternoon on the Saturday after New Year's; perhaps I wasn't. That seems to be the case a lot lately -- perpetual brain fog.  But we were there and parked, and our name was on that crazy long waiting  list -- we did at least think to call in advance....

Time passed, as it does, and the girls' names were finally called. My oldest has outgrown this salon, according to her, so it was me and my two younger girls. The youngest went first and opted for the most modest trim allowable, just the dead ends, nothing more. She is quite partial to her long hair and wanted to give up only the bare minimum.

But my middle daughter? Merrell? Well she was in all the way. She had the stylist break out her ruler to verify that her locks qualified for Locks of Love. They did. She had the requisite 10 inches. But not for long. They broke out that electric razor right away and cut straight across. It was quick, and dramatic, and final. There was no going back.

In about 30 seconds she went from this:

 To this:

Goodbye mane.

Nice work, Mer. Way to give to a good cause.