• Mood: anxious

Back *away* from the scissors slowly and no one gets hurt.

This is a conversation I had with mom last night and the only thing that has put terror in me in a long time.

Mom: I'm going to cut your hair this week. Layer it.

Me: Oh HELL no...you are not touching my hair! I want to actually be done right.

Honestly, this woman has never been able to cut my hair worth a damn. I used to do better by making a ponytail and lopping it off. I've lost track of how many years spent with bad haircuts, this includes a freaking mullet when I was 12. Usually I ended up in tears because what I had on my head was not what I wanted.

(and we won't speak of the many times I ended up with basically an afro because she didn't bother to tell me not to use a hairbrush on my hair after getting a curly perm)

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