I had finally convinced myself that a mom-do was a bad idea.  

VERY BAD.  

Yes, it would be practical, save time, and eliminate BabyGirl from plucking me bald one handful of hair at a time.  But there would be no way to style it when I wanted to feel hot.  No way to tease it and primp it into looking good when the mood struck.  No way to satisfy my daily obsession with hairspray.  No way to pull it back with an elastic when I hadn't washed it in days.    

And then this bee-otch came along.  

And here she goes making short hair look all glamorous and stylish and pretty.  

Tricking me into thinking about short hair again.

This is bad...