I noticed Leah walk through the kitchen as I started to prepare for dinner. Something was amuck with her hair.
Huh? (She paused long enough to scrunch her face into its characteristic look of questioning - nose crinkled, mouth half open with one side drawn up towards her cheek. It's not the prettiest thing you have ever seen, I assure you.)
What is wrong with your hair?
Come here, Leah. (I wait for her to come to me before noting that there is definitely a thatch of bangs no longer attached). Is your hair cut?
Um... (begins to cry) yes!
Leah! What were you doing cutting your hair? (No answer. More tears.) You need to go to my room and wait for me.
I must confess that the pathetic look of pure misery, coupled with her new do were enough to make me start laughing right then! I had to hide my chuckles behind a cupboard door for fear of being found out. Moments later I was composed enough (read: dinner prep was at an appropriately "pausable" place) and I went to get the whole scoop from her.
Leah, what happened?
Caleb cut it.
(Oh, this was better than I imagined...)
Caleb? Caleb cut your hair?
Did you say, "No!"?
Uh huh. I told him I didn't think it was a good idea, but he did it anyway.
(It just keeps going! Leah is trying to convince me that SHE was the voice of reason behind her brother's unsolicited assault on her hair. Classic.)
Alright. You stay here while I go talk to Caleb.
(As I left the room I felt pretty good that my threat of actually talking to the accused would send shivers up her scape-goat using spine.)
Did you cut your sister's hair?
You cut Leah's hair?
(I am baffled. Caleb is standing in front of me, batting not an eye lash while revealing the darker workings of his mind.)
Where did you cut it?
In the garage.
What did you do with the hair?
I stuffed it under the shelves.
Did she tell you not to?
(At this revelation I am stunned, for to have Caleb agree that Leah did in fact tell him not to means it's the gospel truth - and my daughter actually made the right choice... for once.)
And you did it anyway?
Um... I guess, because I wanted to.
Son, did you have permission to use the scissors?
Did you have permission to cut her hai - nevermind. (These are the things you say before you really think about what you are saying!) You never have permission to cut someone's hair, or cut your own. Do you understand?
(Now what to do with him. After all, in most cases the victim of hairstyling crimes is also the perpetrator, and the several months it will take to renew a look of normalcy to their tresses is enough to saturate the point of, "Thou Shalt Leave Well Enough Alone." This was different.)
Son, you will be given a special haircut by Daddy when he gets home. I hope this helps you appreciate what you did to Leah.