Don't get mad...get your hands on the comb.

Revenge is sweet. At least for the reveng-er, anyway.

Picture this. Braiding E's hair this morning. A beautiful french braid starting at her forehead and wrapping around her head in both directions so that her hair won't fall into her poor little pink eye. Quite lovely, I might add. During the process there were a few "owwwws" and "you're puuuuulllin's!", and so I explained that it might be a little "pully", but that's because I have to make sure to get it tight so it doesn't fall out and bother her eye. And I also mentioned that it's not necessary to provide a constant stream of complaint, it only makes the braider antsy and *might* result in longer braid time and/or more pulliness. She digressed. We got the braid in and it looks adorable.

See?

Then mama went on to work on her own hair, and it wasn't long before E offered her assistance.

E: Can I put some clippies and elastics in your hair?

M: Sure!

E: Can I comb your hair?

M: Sure...although, why don't you use the brush? The brush feels really nice.

E: Um...no. I'll use the comb. Now. It might be a bit pully. Ok, mama? It might hurt a bit. So. I warned you, right?

You know what they say. Karma's a 3-year-old, alright.