Little Miss Maisy; Deleted Scenes

Eleven.

Eleven:

Miles the Hairdresser

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"Cassie?" Maisy called out, wandering down the hallway as she searched for her sister. She swore she had heard her voice just a bit ago when she was coloring.

"Cassie?" Maisy called out again, glancing around with a puzzled expression resting on her face.

"One second, babe."

Cassidy's voice came muffled through their bathroom door before the loud sound of her hairdryer drowned her out completely.

"But, Cassidy!" Maisy whined. She needs her older sister's help. How else was she supposed to continue creating an artful masterpiece with only crayons?

"Maisy, you need to be patient." Cassidy's voice came through the door again, a hint of annoyance in her tone this time.

"But I need your help." Maisy tried to protest, her sister was the only one she could go to. Well, the only one she knew of.

She had been busy coloring pictures in her room, creating her latest piece when she stumbled across an issue-

Her hair wouldn't stop falling into her eyes and interrupting her! It was horrible.

And because she constantly had to swipe her hair from her eyes, she constantly had to stop coloring. Finally, she became fed up enough to ask her sister for help.

"Just ask one of your brothers!" Cassidy yelled through the door. She had just gotten out of the shower and was going through her routine, so she didn't exactly have the time to help the toddler right now. "Miles and Eric should be somewhere. Go find them."

Maisy dramatically groaned and imitated the words she had heard from a vintage diner they recently checked out.

She draped her hand over her face, pretending to fall against the wall while she used a very dramatic tone. "I just can't do it, babe!"

Cassidy chose to ignore the little drama-queen for now. In her mind, she could either be patient or ask someone else.

"What can't you do, doll?" Miles recognized Maisy's dramatic tone as he got to the top of the stairs, so he imitated her with an old-timer accent.

"Cassidy won't help me," Maisy made a small pout, irritated with her messy hair.

"Well . . ." Miles pretended to think, stroking his chin before an imaginary lightbulb popped over his head. "I could help you!"

Maisy curiously stared at him as she watched the gears in his head turn, trying not to doubt his capabilities. Perhaps this was a trick.

"I know how to brush hair . . . Probably." Miles dismissively waved his hand, his overconfidence shining through. "Pfft, how hard can it be?"

"Really?" Maisy's face lit up as she realized, it wasn't a trick! And, she could finish her lovely drawings without her hair bothering her.

"Yes, ma'am!" Miles gave her a wide smile and an enthusiastic tone, not knowing what he got himself into. "Where do we start?"

Maisy grasped his fingers, leading him to her room where all of her hair products are. Her little hair binders, clips, and brushes.