Choices

Yesterday afternoon I went to Wal-Mart to develop some pictures for my oldest son’s   4-H project.  As always, my cell phone was with me in case the kids needed anything.  Middle son called, asking how to handle a certain cooking situation for his 4-H project when in the background I heard the words “putty” and “hair” in close proximity.  My mom-dar goes off.  “What’s going on there about putty and hair?” 

 Middle replies “Oh, nothing, Anna’s upset because she’s got some putty in her hair and she wants me to take care of it.” 

“Don’t, I repeat DO NOT cut her hair.  I’ll take care of it when I get home.”  I had no idea what I was in for.  I was imagining a small amount of putty touching her hair.  What I found instead was the entire container of silly putty matted in the most conspicuous place imaginable in my daughter’s lovely, waist-length hair.  We were in for a long night together.

“How did you get all this putty in your hair, honey?”  I asked quite calmly.  (I have learned from previous hair episodes that it is best that I not show alarm.  It makes her really upseet and only escalates the situation exponentially.) 

“I wanted to make a print of my ear,” she replied through tears and exclamations of “Ouch!  You’re hurting me mommy!”

“I’m being as gentle as I can, but this is really matted in there, ” I tell her, knowing it’s not going to make a hill of beans of difference to her.  In my head I’m wondering, “Whatever possessed you to think of making a print of your ear with silly putty?”  Instead I gently ask her, “I don’t think making a print of your ear and getting silly putty in your hair was a good choice for you.  What do you think?”  No, she agreed, it was not a good choice at all.

It was a long night, I extracted as much of the putty as possible, pulling an unfortunate amount of hair along with it.  I massaged her head with copious amounts of conditioner, combing it out, then washing/conditioning again.  Today, she has the softest, shiniest hair in the county.

No permanent damage done.  I don’t think you can even tell how much hair is missing/broken, but I pondered how many times does the Lord sit in heaven and think, “I wonder whatever possessed her to think that was a good idea?”  Of course the Lord is infinite in His knowledge and wisdom and knows exactly what leads me to make the decisions I do; but from His perspective I bet they’re just as dumb-headed as putting silly putty in your hair. 

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