Thanks alot, Em

Thanks alot, Em, for making my boys obsessed with gum.

I knew all along that there had to be more to the 'self-haircut' than saving me a pretty penny. It suddenly occured to me what it was: gum. As in gum in the hair. Yep. The gum in the hair scenario explains why an 8 year old (who I had just described the previous weekend as 'recently maturing') would take several chops out of his own hair. Mom's wrath - the banning of all bubblegum - and the 'what were you thinking?!'s - it could all be avoided with just a few simple snip-snips, and no one would be any the wiser. Mom would never have to know that gum had managed to make it from mouth to head.

Me: You cutting your own hair wouldn't have anything to do with gum, would it?
Will: probably.
Me: How did you get gum in your hair?
Will: I don't know...I don't want to talk about it.

He already knows the advantages of pleading the fifth. He already almost got away without incriminating himself. You say too much, you're doomed.

So yeah, Em. I'm blaming this one on you. So thanks! Never mind that I was up on the couch falling asleep while the boys were down on the computer playing a game when the haircut took place yesterday. You remember the computer room, don't you? It would be the same room that I recently put a ban on being in unless I'm present because Will helped himself to my brown paint, which he managed to get on his shirt, and someone (no one ever owned up to it) knocked over a special order art piece I was working on and chipped it. Yes, it would be that same room. What happened to that ban, you ask? Well, you see I was sleeping and they were downstairs and being quiet and I was lazy, ok? I WAS LAZY! ASLEEP ON THE JOB! I admit it. This time, I'm sticking to my guns. No kids in the computer room.