Randomness

cut once, measure not at all 

One day Lorelei came up to me with her hands pressed to her forehead.  I thought maybe she had hurt herself, but as she stood there I started seeing pieces of hair falling out of her hands.

She saw my face and immediately started sobbing. When I finally got her to explain why she cut her hair she cried, “some pieces were in my face when I leaned over my desk. They kept falling in my face so I cut them off.”

That seemed pretty legit to me.

I was reminded of that this morning when, in desperate “need” of black boot cuffs that I didn’t have, I cut the sleeves off of a shirt in my donation pile and wore them on my legs.

Problem solving and scissors – a dangerous but winning combination.

 

Severed arm
IMG_1896
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Rhiannon Giles

Rhiannon Giles is a freelance writer from Durham, North Carolina. She interweaves poignancy and humor to cover topics ranging from prematurity to parenting and mental health. Her work has been featured on sites such as The New York Times, Washington Post, Parents, Scary Mommy, McSweeney's, and HuffPost. You can find her being consistently inconsistent on her blog, Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.

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