Shock and aawwwwww

It pains me to do this but you said you wanted to see pictures of what Mr. C did to Chicky's hair.

First I'll show you the pictures that my husband shocked me with - under the premise that he was doing me a favor by not making me wait until morning to see what he had done - soon after walking in the door.

I really don't want to do this. Are you sure you want to see them? They're pretty bad.

You might want to put your hands over your eyes.

Ohhhh-kay, here it goes....

Huh?

What the...?

NOOOOO!!!

(shudder)

If you're still here after witnessing the heinous act of hair mutilation that my husband inflicted on his daughter - my sweet, beautiful child who is more gorgeous than all others. The child whose sheer beauty I am not ashamed or embarrassed to profess my awe for, nor am I ashamed or embarrassed to base whole posts on the exploitation of that beauty, especially when I am fresh out of witty blog repartee - then I have another picture that I am begrudgingly going to add.

It hurts me to do this because it is evidence that the haircut was not as bad as it first seemed and I am worried that Mr. C will wipe those other pictures out of his mind (or, at least off of his hard drive) and get the inkling once again to take shears to precious golden locks when I am otherwise unavailable to protest.

I guess the haircut didn't turn out too badly, Mom. Now we don't have to fuss with those cute hairclips you just bought me.

Sure, it looks like she's finding the whole thing funny but inside she's crying.

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