The Dreaded Same Haircut of Terror

So awhile back, I donated over 11 inches of hair to the charity Locks of Love. I have had short hair (above shoulder length) since then. Baby B's has been growing long all the while. Even before my donation, we had different hair lengths for many years. The other day, I decided my layered bob, which had grown out a little awkwardly, needed to be cut again. Surprise! Baby A was ready to cut hers!

At the salon, I told the very nice stylist what I wanted. Then Baby A stepped up and said, "After your done with hers, I want it just the same."

It didn't quite work that way, in a good way. When Baby A sat down, she found out she had enough to donate to Pantene's Beautiful Lengths, so the stylist slid up the ponytail holders up a bit and took a little extra to ensure some nice ponytails for donation. So the way some people could tell us apart is gone: I now have slightly longer hair than Baby A, as opposed to before when Baby A had dramatically longer hair.

It was very shocking for many people. Lots of questions, usually "WHY??"

Here are some statistics:
1. Number of people who honestly tried and couldn't tell us apart at all (at first): 5
2. Number of people from 1. who have adapted at this point: 2
3. Number of good friends who had trouble: 0
4. Number of times people have caught their mistake: 3
5. Number of people who asked us if it would bother us if he/she tried to guess who was who: 1 (How considerate :])
This is all very unscientific. I won't even attempt to remember the number of comments and the number of questions.

So, this post is titled "The Dreaded Same Haircut of Terror" because that is the reaction we got. Plenty of people made it clear the hair was the only way they could tell us apart.

EASY ways to tell us apart:
1. glasses
2. distinguishing marks (moles, etc.)
3. height
4. voice (we are told they are easily distinguishable)
5. backpack (I don't use hers and she doesn't use mine)
There are many more. People just latched onto the hair for seven months and didn't bother to try to actually learn to tell us apart. Now their crutch is gone (gone, on its merry way to Wisconsin), and they have till summer to play catch up.

Peace,
Baby B