No, I shouldn't say that. Maya was a good girl who made a BAD decision. A really horribly bad decision. I saw this on the stairs and started to sweat.
It could be Olaf hair, I thought optimistically, but it didn't look fluffy enough and there were no twigs in the mix, so my heart beat faster. "Maya!" I yelled, "Quickly come see Mom!"
And oh yeah, it wasn't Olaf. A regular little Edward Scissorhands this girl is. Now this wasn't her first foray into self-styling; in the past she's taken a little trim here and there, but this was by far the most drastic. The front was obviously mutilated, but the rest is nearly as bad. One side fared worse than the other, so she's got this asymmetrical punk rock style going on. She's a punk all right.
This was our conversation following the incident:
"Maya, do we cut our own hair?"
"O.K., obviously. But should we cut our own hair?"
"You can if you want to."
"No, you cannot. You won't ever cut your own hair again, right?"
"Maya, it doesn't look PRETTY" (I know this was probably a bit harsh)
"I think it looks pretty. And Charlie looks pretty too....."
So here's Maya in the style she'll be sporting for YEARS while her hair grows out.... or until she cuts it again....when she wants to.
And here's a picture of a kinder, gentler time, a time when my daughter had hair.
And wasn't quite so sassy.