Short Hair, Long Laughs (Sketch #1)

As we huddled in her closet, 6-year olds Kaity and I knew that no one would see this one coming. We had done pranks before, like whoopee cushions, and water-spraying flowers, but this one was huge. The plan? We would switch places for one week, and on Saturday we would reveal the big secret to our parents. Amazed at our ingenious prank, our parents would laugh so hard that they would want to take us out to our favorite ice cream store.

But there was a slight problem in our differing appearances that had to first be addressed. I had bangs that hung right above my eyes, while Kaity had hair that was all one length. For a while, we stood puzzled. But suddenly, the solution seemed to hit her like a freight train, “Let’s just cut them off! I have my scissors from school, and then it would look just like my hair!” Thus, we headed to the bathroom to commence our adventure.

Sitting on the cold granite counter top, my little legs continued to swing back and forth to the rhythm of the ticking clock. “We have to do it now before they come back!” she urged me in a harsh whisper. I bit my lip in intense concentration as my mind swirled with confusion. My palms sweated bullets. I knew this would work if we did it right, but if it failed, it would be the worst decision of my life.  In my meek voice I muttered, “Okay, just do it fast before I have time to think about it!” As I said that, large chunks of my dark brown hair started to fall to the tile floor while my hands clenched tightly over my eyes.

After about 30 minutes, I opened my eyes to Kaity squinting and snipping a few more pieces off of her creation. With a ‘voila’, the deed was done. I turned around to see my new ‘do in the mirror, only to be greeted by a poorly mowed football field on top of my head. My arms flailed back and forth as a collapsed onto the bathroom floor in a heap of tears and screams. Picture a chili-bowl haircut on top of a Mohawk. That was my hair at that moment, and obviously not quite the plan we envisioned. Instead of pulling our switch-a-roo, we had to call my mom crying.

Needless to say, my mom attempted anything to fix the mistake I made: wigs, hair attachments, and headbands. You name it; I tried it. To top off this most embarrassing time in my life, my mom would not let me go to my second grade pictures with any hair coverings (I’m assuming for punishment or some other form of parental humor), saying that I would laugh about it some day. Well I guess today is that day, and I do admit, it is one of the funniest moments from my childhood.

On a side note, I will attach a picture of this lovely event, which was taken about 3 months after it happened so it is much improved if you can believe that. I think the plaid jumper uniform really adds a nice touch. And don't worry, I will not be perusing a career in hairstyling.