Grace and the Scissors

Dear Grace,
I appreciate that a good portion of your day involves cutting, but I'm getting a little concerned. Last week when you cut a hole right in the middle of Olivia's dollhouse rug so you could make a skirt for your Barbie, I originally thought it was inspired, and half expected Heidi Klum to pop in and say, "It looks very expensive. I would wear that. I really would, " while Nina nods in agreement. However. It caused a lot of trauma around here, and so I felt I must punish you by not letting you have any scissors for TWO WHOLE DAYS. That would mean two whole days for me of not vacuuming up teeny, tiny pieces of paper all over the carpet, or 'cutting room floor', as it were. By hour twelve of the TWO WHOLE DAYS of scissor banishment, you were lying on the floor, tears streaming down your face, with a large pile of papers in your hands. They were drawings you had made and they all needed to be CUT! By hour 20, your three siblings were begging me to let you cut again, because they couldn't handle your incessant begging for scissors. So, I gave in and gave you the scissors, with VERY STERN warnings about what you were allowed to cut. For a day or two, all was well, you cut a million tiny pieces of paper, you cut the grass, you cut some felt that I offered you. You cut playdoh and a broken Barbie's hair. But then.

Why?

Why would you give yourself a mullet?

Love, mom