I've been having to pull the Arabitty's hair back with barrettes for quite a while. If I don't it hangs in her face and she resembles Shaggy from Scooby Doo.
She's short. I have big furniture. Big antique furniture. Furniture that is older than all of our ages combined (I'm including the two 13 year old cats in there too). It is tall furniture. Especially my dining room table, which used to belong to my great-grandmother. I *still* need a phone book to sit on when I eat at it.
I have cleared space around the dining room table and that now serves as a little race track for the Evil Dwarf. The only problem is that I can't always see her when she's on the other side. And there are many places for a Girl of Small Proportion to get lost in this space. I panic.
"Arabis? Arabis? Where are you?" is a plaintive cry heard often around here. Nine times out of ten, she is on the dark side of the dining room table (I'm not mentioning where she ends up the tenth time for fear of CPS).
Now I just look for the top knot. I need to get her a little plastic samurai sword and teach her old John Belushi routines.