Personal Narrative: My Haircut

When I was in second grade my grandmother asked the hairdresser to cut my long blonde hair to my shoulders. I was unaware of this conversation until after the woman had already begun cutting my hair. When I got home with my newly cut hair I went straight up to my room and called my dad hysterically crying, telling him about how grandma was a monster and had all my hair cut off. His initial consoling, telling me how he was sure that it looked fabulous and that we could find great ways to style my new hair did not work. He asked me then if I thought that grandmas heart was in the right place. Of course not I thought why would she ever want to go behind my back to have my haircut. Thinking back now, I remember my hair before this haircut. I did