Dear Brooklyn,
Cutting your hair has always been a disaster.
And once after a particularly bad run with the scissors I swore up and down that I wouldn't cut it again.
But that didn't last long.
I am determined to perfect the art of cutting your hair.
And you are determined to make that as difficult as possible.
Today you I pulled out all the stops: Toy Story, the bar stool (which you love), candy, I even let you hold the cup of water (which you spilt.... several times.... on the carpet.)
After was seemed like a promising start you screamed, placed both hands on the back of your head and refused to let go.
Finally, I coaxed you into letting me somewhat finish.
I'm sure tomorrow I will realized how badly I did and bust out the scissors again.
I almost want to just let your hair grow long and let you walk around in a tangled mess for the rest of your life.
Sincerely, Lori
