My hair: "You're destined to wear me in a ponytail with a headband FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE."
Me: "No. I'm going to do something. I'm going to get you done."
My hair: "Let's face it. You're attached to me. All you're going to do is get a trim."
Me: "NO! I CAN DO THIS! Maybe BANGS! Maybe I'll cut you ALL OFF and dye you BLONDE! THAT'LL SHOW YOU!"
My hair: "Stop shouting. You need me. If you cut me off then you'll look like a fat pinhead."
Me: "I'm on Weight Watchers. I won't look this way forever you know."
My hair: "YES YOU WILL. Also. Your husband will no longer find you attractive if I am above shoulder length."
Me: "But he told me I can do whatever I want with you and he won't care!"
My hair: "He's lying! Your hair is all you have left! You can't wear your wedding rings because you have sausage hands! You barely keep your toenails painted anymore! If you part with me YOU ARE DONE FOR!"
My hair: "No. No 'buts.' If you cut me off you will have Mom Hair. You might as well go out and get that minivan you've been trying to avoid. YOU ARE NOT COOL ANYMORE."
Me: "But what is the point of you? I don't even bother blow drying you anymore because you do not behave. Half of you is gone. What's left is totally out of control."
My hair: "It's your fault, not mine. You're the one who had to go and mess me up by having BABIES."
Me: "I like babies."
My hair: "Don't change the subject!"
Me: "Hair? I'm breaking up with you."