You Look Like a Troll

Tonight as I was cooking dinner, Gracie came into the kitchen holding her hair in her hands.

“What’s wrong with you, chicka chicka boom boom?” I teased her.

Silence.

“Gracie?” I said, giving her my full attention now.  “What’s wrong?  Why are you holding your hair?”

“Well, MICHAEL was jumping on his bed and then my mouth was open and it got all in my hair.”

“What got in your hair?”

“Gum,” she whispered, looking down to her feet.

“And where did you get gum?” I asked, knowing full well where she’d gotten it.

“…..” she mumbled.

“I can’t hear you.  Gracie, WHERE did you get the gum?”

“Out of your purse,” she sighed, admitting defeat.

I will leave out the stream of scolding that came after this admission of guilt, but it was harsh.  Then, I turned to her hair.  Or, rather, I called Chris to turn to her hair because I was in the middle of cooking.

Chris spent the next half hour gently pulling gum out of Gracie’s hair.  When that didn’t work, he Google’d it and put peanut butter on it for a few minutes.  Then, he took a comb and tried to brush out the gummy peanut butter mess.  This actually worked surprisingly well.  It got out a lot, but not all.  Daisy thought this was a super idea.  She loves peanut butter!

After the peanut butter, he washed it out with dish soap in the kitchen sink.  It was much better, but still pretty gummy.

Finally, he said, “Mom, you’re going to have to cut this.”

“OH, GOODY!”  Gracie squealed.  “I love haircuts!  Let’s cut my hair REALLY short!” and then she continued on about how excited she was to cut her hair.

I thought Chris’s head was about to explode.  “Gracie, you are in BIG trouble right now.  This is not just about getting a haircut.  You took something out of Mom’s purse that didn’t belong to you, you chewed gum upstairs when you know that that is against the rules, and you got gum stuck in your hair.  You are in BIG trouble, young lady.”

This got her to quiet down for a few minutes while he continued to comb through her hair.  But the excitement of getting her haircut again was too much for Gracie to take and soon she began to get happy and chatty again.  “Mommy, can I get bangs, too?  Let’s not cut it too short because I still want a ponytail.  OH!  Miss Tina is going to love my short, short hair!”

And that’s when Chris had enough.  “GRACIE!  STOP LAUGHING!  YOU’RE GOING TO LOOK LIKE A TROLL!”

Silence.

And then her eyes widened.

And then her mouth dropped open.

And then her eyes widened even more.

And then the floodgates opened, “BUT I DON’T WANT TO LOOK LIKE A TROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!”

“Well, then you shouldn’t have gotten stolen gum in your hair, now, should you?”

This was all happening behind my back while I stood over the stove cooking.  And I’m so glad because I was dying laughing.  DYING.  I’m so glad Gracie couldn’t see me.  I felt bad for her.  She thought she was going to look like a troll, bless her little heart.  But I was cracking up at Chris.

I turned back around for a minute and mouthed to him, “A troll?”

“It was the best I could come up with,” he whispered back under his breath.

We eventually got the rest of the gum out and the little pieces that were left were washed out when I gave her a bath tonight.  After she was gum-free, I brushed out her hair and surveyed the damage.  It’s not too bad.  Just a little shorter in the front, but I don’t think anyone will be able to tell.  I’ll check it out in the morning when it’s dry and I’ll take her to get it actually cut tomorrow if it’s noticeable.

Or, you know, if she looks like a troll.