A Conversation with Emmy

This morning, as usual we are running late for church. All that's left to do is brush emmy's hair, which is not a fun task. We're in the bathroom and I barely have the brush touching her hair and she's already crying, I start brushing her hair and she becomes hysterical. Of course, being late, I'm low on patience and tell her that if she doesn't let me brush her hair I'm going to cut it off...she says no maman don't do that....we continue further into the process of hair brushing...and I threaten again that if she doesn't stop squirming I'm going to cut her hair...she says fine go get the scissors...ugh! what a morning (and no I didn't go get the scissors...cutting her hair is clearly an empty threat)