Baby Taylor Hair Salon Fun
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Taylor and Jessica lived for their Barbie adventures, their tiny hands constantly tangled in synthetic strands as they braided, curled, and ponytailed their dolls’ plastic-perfect hair. Thursday afternoons were sacred—a ritual of glittery hair clips and dramatic makeovers—until today. Jessica’s mom dropped her off at Taylor’s with a casual wave, oblivious to the rebellion brewing between juice boxes and giggles. “What if,” Taylor whispered, her eyes glinting mischief, “we *become* the Barbies?” Jessica’s gasp dissolved into a conspiratorial grin. Scissors snuck from the craft drawer gleamed under afternoon sun. Snip. A blonde curl spiraled to the carpet. Then a chestnut lock. Giggles crescendoed—until the bathroom door creaked. Silence. Footsteps. The girls froze, clutching each other’s butchered bangs, their stomachs dropping faster than a dropped hairbrush. *Uh-oh.*
