The story begins last Friday night:
I had a dream last night, no joke, that Ryder was playing with a group of kids and one little girl took a pair of scissors and cut his hair with them. I was *furious* and later sobbing about it in my dream. I relayed the dream to Rob this morning and we both laughed over it. (you know where this is going, right?)

I left for about an hour earlier this morning to go buy some topsoil for my flowerbeds, leaving the kids in Riley's room playing with her toys and under Rob's watch. Came home, kids were still upstairs playing. A few minutes later they came to the top of the stairs and at first glance Ryder looked like he had wet hair. Wait. No, not wet. M I S S I N G. My scissor-happy girl cut his beautiful hair with the scissors she keeps with her paper/markers/crayons. Straight to the step for timeout went Riley while I tried to control my bubbling hysteria as I came across clump after clump of Ryder's precious hair. A few minutes later Rob came upstairs holding Riley and held out his palm - showing me a clump of HER hair inside it. Apparently they made a "I'll cut your hair if you cut mine" agreement. As well as serveral Barbies and My Little Ponies. Full on laughter/sobbing/laughter/sobbing hysterics follow as I sramble to get my hairdresser on the phone while trying not to look at the mess that was my children's hair. James was graciously willing to meet us at his salon on his day off to attempt to "fiix" unfixable haircuts (or was just so startled at my frantic phone call he didn't have the heart to tell me no). We're talking bushwacked, ladies. There is no other word to describe it. I ran a brush through Riley's hair and clumps upon clumps of hair fell out. (And she didn't have a whole lot of hair left in the first place after her previous escapade!!!!!) Ryder had one, single, lovely long lock of hair left in the back, like a rat tail on rednecked kid. Rob said while I was gone it got pretty quiet upstairs so HE CALLED up the stairs "a couple of times to make sure everything was okay" instead up going up to check on them. Doesn't he know that silence is the first clue to up to no good?!? Good freakin' grief. He declared Riley grounded from scissors for life and grounded from playing with her dolls. (She came sobbing to me later saying "Mommy I don't want my dolls to go in the ground!)

We went to James and he fixed Riley's the best he could, it's an A-line pixie cut that looks normal when curled (I swear this girl will never have hair past her shoulders as this is now the 5th self-given haircut), and Ryder will never again be confused as a girl. When asked who cut his hair, Ryder gets a sheepish grin on his face and confesses: Wylee.

Definitely not how I had planned Ryder's first haircut to go, but certainly a humorous one. (Which I can finally laugh about now...) Lesson learned - never ignore silent children and banish kid scissors from child's bedroom.
Ramona

PS - THANK YOU to those of you who have sent me recipes for the family cookbook. For those of you who haven't - I'm waiting!!