I AM ON MY CROSSING GUARD/I HATE APPLE JUICE

The woman who volunteers as the neighborhood crossing guard has disgusting brown hair that reaches to her butt. The farther the hair gets from her head, the thinner it is. She always wears it in a braid and that braid always has a silver clip at the top portion of it, even though that makes no sense to me because it's a French braid (girls will understand this). She has had this same hair for the entire five years I've lived in this house. Everytime I see her I imagine running up behind her with scissors and everytime she sees me she smiles and waves.

Whenever she returns to the sidewalk after being out in the street to stop cars from running over obnoxious children, she doesn't just walk to the land, she half-runs. I don't mean a jog, either--it's a legitimate half-run. And she looks silly half-running (as most people do, but she takes the cake). She always wears knee-length shorts and white sneakers and when things are slow on the crosswalk she sits in a lawn chair with an eager smile on her face.

I just can't help wondering how so many aspects of the universe could be transformed with the single gesture from a pair of scissors. How different would she look? How differently would the world view her? How much more readily would the world accept change based on her ability to change hairstyles? Would her husband leave her because he wouldn't be able to relate to her anymore? Would her children recognize her? Would the haircut result in better job opportunities if she were suddenly plunged into financial straits rather than merely shuttling her three kids around in her white Ford minivan? These are all questions that can and only will be answered with the words snip, snip.

Further note on the hairclip (girls will understand this): WHY BOTHER?