My mom yelled up the stairs for us to get down there. Now. By the tone of her voice it was evident someone had done something. Something she was clearly not pleased with. Evidently the problem at hand was that my mother had found hair all over our bathroom. Apparently someone had decided to take the initiative in cutting their own hair, and the evidence lay spread on the counter and floor of the bathroom. While no one was willing to confess, the topic was dropped. For now.
We made our way to gymnastics class. My mom, my sisters, Katie, Kelly, and me rode backseat of the car. Kelly turned to me and made a comment that spiraled out of control. "Molly's hair looks uneven." All of a sudden, to everyone in the car, my hair look insanely uneven, and I was placed with the blame of the hair cut mess. I knew it was Kelly who had done it. Not me. Operation Payback would begin soon enough.
We stood in the front hall way of the house, and Kelly began egging me on. Teasing me. Pestering me. So I did it. I took a huge bite. My teeth sank into the hand, and I bite down hard. Tears began to stream down. My mom came running. "Look at my hand!" I yelled. Kelly's face filled with utter confusion. "Kelly bit me!" Grounded- Kelly, that is. Who was wrongly blamed now? :)
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I can relate to the hair story. I cut my ponytail off when I was 3. My mom was so mad. She stuck me in front of the mirror and told me look what you did, you cut all your beautiful hair off, do you want to look ugly? I'm sure it was harsh at the time, but know I laugh.
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