It was another rainy evening in Ville D'Avray, and I was feeling a bit inspired. Now I see the thought bubble pop up above your head asking, what is she being inspired to do? Is it to write, sing, draw, or to paint a beautiful portrait replacing the Mona Lisa? To answer your thought bubble it was none of the previously mentioned. I was simply inspired to cut my bangs.
I make this next statement with the utmost humble spirit. I am a very talented individual. I can skip, ride a bike, roller blade, blow bubbles with gum, and I've even mastered the art of tying my shoes. However, there is one skill unmastered--cutting hair. A few years ago a friend of mine entrusted me with a pair of scissors and her hair. After making a few cuts here and there I muttered under my breath the dreaded words "Oh crap". After realizing there was no was way under the blue sky I was capable of fixing her once beautiful brunette locks--her more skilled sister took over. Not learning my lesson I attempted to cut a boys hair. My thought process was this...boys have shorter hair...must be easier. NO, it isn't. I ended up giving him a proper military buzz, but even that is a stretch.
Before these memories came back to me I quickly ran downstairs to fetch some scissors; I was on a mission! Once they were in hand I hurried upstairs being careful not to run because as children we were taught not to do so. (I put that little piece of wisdom in there because I'm a nanny trying to instill those sorts of things to two beautiful girls) I walk straight into the bathroom, comb my bangs, tie my hair back, and CUT. My hand had moved before my mind could map out the course the scissors were supposed to take. It was too late. I looked in the sink to see the rather long fallen soldiers. Slowly I allowed my gaze to peer into the mirror only to see my uneven bangs whose shortest hair was about 2 inches long.
I now own a hat.
Let this be a reminder to all who "feel inspired" on another rainy day.
