I had a little accident with the scissors.


My bangs had gotten too long and I couldn’t very well see through them, so I decided to cut them so that I could see under them. Capisce? It was going quite well, moving from one side of my face to the other. Then, right when I reached the edge of the left side, my hand slipped and the scissors angled up. Way up. Like 5-year-old-hatchet-job up.


Isn’t it astounding how a 5-year-old will sport jacked-up bangs with immeasurable pride, as long as she cut them herself? Wouldn’t you love to be that care-free? I certainly would. And I was thinking that when I looked at myself for a few seconds, with those freshly hacked bangs. Then I realized I’d rather have straight bangs than jacked-up bangs, so I leveled them out. Care-free wrapped in 5-year-old wisdom will have to wait.


Anyhoo, now they’re super-duper short. But they’ll grow. And though the look doesn’t sit well with everyone, I kind of like ’em. Not only have I gotten a few compliments while out in the world, but I can also see. And for some reason, I think my short bangs look cool.


Not cool enough for me to share a photo, mind you. But cool just the same.

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