The Day My Daughter Gave Me an Unscheduled Summer Haircut

Well, this one is probably on me.

Backstory first: my daughter would not let anyone brush her hair or professionally cut it until around age six. And before anyone gets judgmental, if you have a child with sensory struggles or special needs, you already understand exactly what I mean. If you don’t… congratulations on your peaceful hair-brushing experiences.

My daughter had these gorgeous curly locks. The kind people compliment constantly.

And if you know curly hair, you know it requires maintenance. If you don’t know curly hair, let me introduce you to the magical process where one missed brushing session somehow turns into a small woodland creature living in the back of someone’s head.

Things were manageable until around age three, and then everything went sideways.

Hair brushing became a full-contact emotional event. Haircuts? Absolutely not. Professional stylists? Might as well have suggested betrayal.

So fast forward to now.

My daughter recently decided she wanted to play hair salon.

And honestly? She came prepared.

Fake spray bottle. Fake straightener. Fake hair dryer. Fake scissors. Full setup.

I agreed to be her customer while also trying to keep one eye on my son, who was doing something that definitely required supervision.

At first, she was brushing my hair.

Then it got quiet.

Now, experienced parents already know this was my second mistake.

I assumed she had wandered off to get hair clips.

No.

No, my friends.

She had wandered off to get real scissors.

And then I heard it.

Snip.

Listen, I get my hair professionally done maybe once every two years. I had just gotten it beautified. I was out here trying to maintain a tiny shred of adulthood and self-care.

Apparently my daughter felt it needed a more personalized touch.

So naturally, I sent a message to my family explaining that my daughter had given me an unscheduled haircut.

My mother laughed so hard she gave herself an asthma attack.

Honestly? Fair enough. Payback is apparently real.

Meanwhile, I’ve informed everyone not to judge me if my hair is down this summer and there appears to be a mysterious missing section somewhere it shouldn’t be.

So anyway, I guess this is the summer of messy buns and strategic hairstyling choices.

Kids really do keep you humble.