Beauty school is cheaper than college...

It's a typical Wednesday in the House of Cheese. She gets home (along with Man and the little one I babysit for an hour or so after school), unloads her crap into the spot where she keeps her shoes and backpack...it's called the living room floor.

Today, is a tad bit different. She has her friend Hot Rod over. Hot Rod is in first grade too. They dump and run, straight outside while my little Buddy is here. Two boys, two girls, life is perfect out in my back yard. They are running, and playing "honey badgers". It seems Hot Rod and Cheese and Buddy are hunters and Man is the badger. I am watching out the window, glass of cold sweet tea in hand when I see "the hunters" run over and poke Man with sticks to ensure that he is in fact a dead badger. It seemed odd to me because I really thought honey badgers didn't give a shit and that they were pretty bad ass. I guess Randall was wrong.

Buddy's dad came along to pick him up about an hour after they got home. He took off with his dad, guess he had had enough of honey badgers trying to eat him. The others march in the back door as Buddy is pulling out of the driveway.

Hot Rod: "It's sooo hot outside, we decided to come in and play since Buddy left."

Man, Cheese and Hot Rod ask if they can play downstairs in the playroom since it is considerably cooler down there. I agree because I know these 3 are fairly responsible kids. OR so I thought....

About another hour goes by and Hot Rod's mom (Prego) and baby brother show up to pick her up. I call for the kids and they come up without hesitation. In this hour I never heard any screaming or throwing of things, just lots of laughs and three kids getting along...that should have been the first sign right there.

The kids are all on the floor playing with the babies, Birdie and Scratch. A few more minutes passes and Prego says "Hot Ride, did you cut your hair?"

Hot Rod turns a little pink but admits that she cut her bangs because they were in her face and she was tired of Scratch pulling them. Thankfully her mom is laid back like me, so it was no big deal. We continue asking questions for all the logistics of what happened.

About 20 minutes later, after deciding I was sure I had not left scissors in the playroom, I was told,

"There are four pairs down there and I used the ones with the red handles!" The greatest thing about Hot Rod is she is NOT a fibber. She will always tell you the truth, even when the truth hurts.

"Well, I don't know how they got down there but man!" I said and before I could finish my train of thought Hot Rod pops back in, "Cheese used them too!!"

Cheese is sitting on the floor in front of me, head down as she has been playing with the babies on the floor. I ask her to turn and look at me. She does, at this point in time, Cheese's hair is actually semi-long. It is past her shoulders, she was growing it out for recital. I look at her face and I finally spot it, upon quick glance it was easily missed. She has chopped two sections of hair up to her ears. Each section is about two inches wide.

I just looked at her and said "Well, no more long hair for recital, we will have to get that cut." I had decided that after Hot Rod left I would call our friend, Gimp, to cut it since she is a hair dresser. We continue talking while Hot Rod is gathering her things and putting her shoes on. About another 20 minutes passes and Man says "Well they cut mine too, and it hurt!!!"

Turns out Man's is invisible other than a giant red circle where it looks like the roots may have been ripped out.

I call Gimp  to see if she can fix her hair, I have heard of CPS getting called for less so I am guessing they'd get called for her hair being chopped up. We got to Gimp's house and she puts Cheese in the stool and brushes it out. It is decided that it is fixable, she will just round it out.

She drapes her in the awesome hot pink cape, and grabs her water bottle to wet her down. The first few sprays hit and nothing new comes up, but the wetter her hair gets the more tiny pieces start popping up. What looked like a two inch section became almost a four inch section with pieces as short as an inch.. It was evident that the only way to fix it is to chop the rest off and give her the little bob she always wears.

She loves her new cut, but don't dare ask her what the hell happened, she won't answer.

But after a little research, Prego and I decided that beauty school is way cheaper than Harvard.

Buzz Lightyear to Star Command....do you read?

Sweet Cheese...she can be the most darling little thing and she can also be the most hateful prat that God put on the face of this earth.

This week we had a short week at school which is always a treat. We only have ten days left at this point but Thursday she pleaded for her Monster to spend the night. I agreed, Monster and Cheese had not had a slumber party in a while, Monster's mom is a teacher so she is crazy busy with all the year end things. The afternoon and night go as beautifully as it possibly can. There were no fights, no screaming, no hitting or pulling hair. They just played, they were just little girls. The took baths and went right to bed like sweet angels.

Morning came, and again, we spent it with no effort, just playing. It was like a dream come true. I went early and retrieved Monster's mom, Shit Weasel. She is down a vehicle at the moment so I did what any one's Bitch Monkey would do and went to get her. We got to do something we rarely do together, we zoned out on shitty television while the babes in toyland played. Around lunch we were reaching total saturation, this is the point in time when the girls have had absolutely enough of each other and should be separated because physical violence usually ensues.

All 3 of the big kids, Man, Monster and Cheese whine that they are hungry...do I look like a chef?? I keep sloughing them off and saying "Just a minute" but in Brianna's own words "just a minute never freakin' comes, Mommy". I tell them I will be there soon enough and to go play. They decide that they are going to play Kerplunk only this one is the Toy Story version and it's a rocket that you fill with LGM (Little Green Men) instead of marbles.

Here comes Monster around the corner, pouty face perfectly intact. "She won't let me help her put the sticky things in."

From the kitchen I hear Cheese, "She can put the ay-glee-ins in."

Me: "Okay, Monster, your job is to put the aliens in, so when she is done putting the stick thingies in, it will be your turn."

This seems like the perfect plan...for the perfect storm.

From the kitchen all I can hear is a low rumbling of bitching between the two of them. Both come from the kitchen, which in our house is has 2 entries to the rest of the house, so they each come from a different direction.

"Cheese is putting the aliens in the rocket and that's my job."

"Well she wasn't doing it fast enough so I can help her."

Me: "Well, you put the sticks in and her job is to put the aliens in. That's what YOU decided."

Monster (always so well meaning yet perfectly timed on when it will piss Cheese off the most): "But that's not fair cause you didn't let me help with the stickies."

Cheese: "Life ain't always about being fair...." in her low Johnny Cash voice with her Gaga eyes. She stomps towards her room and in what can ONLY be described the scene from Jurassic Park when the raptors are on the loose, she slams her head sideways into the wall so hard that it makes our kitchen lights flicker and the a/c kick on.

Shit Weasel turns to look at me, and says "What kind of fucked up life lessons are you teaching this child?"

Good ones, Weasel....VERY good ones.

At least I know she has a a huge shot at the role if Spielberg ever needs another raptor...