It started out a pleasant morning. I arose and exercised (because I am disciplined and have recorded 2 days of consecutive exercise on my calendar to prove it).
I showered, dressed, dried my hair and brushed it, flipping my locks this way and that, enjoying the bounce on my head.
Feeling reasonably attractive, I walked into the kitchen where I was met by the 11-year-old, who took one look at me, stopped in his tracks and asked, “What HAPPENED to you?”
I smiled quizzically, pivoted and stepped into the bathroom to see what I had overlooked. He follow me, “Something is different, you did something different . . . . . . . . . . . . .” he pauses, staring hard at me. “Oh, it’s your hair. Bree cut your hair.”
Yes, my sister cut my hair. She cut my long, stringy, below-the-shoulder hair. I now have short, above-the-chin layers that kind of bounce, or maybe it is more like flop, around.
She cut it last evening, within sight of all the children and even creamed it with a mousse-like product that isn’t called mousse, because hair mousse is like sooooo Eighties. I think she called it a “root lift.” Whatever, it dried kind of hard in my hair, giving my hair a darkened wet, kind of spiky look. It looked and felt exactly like Eighties mousse. It was UGLY.
But I didn’t bother fixing my hair then, because I had a bunch of hungry people on my hands, including the lady who gave me the free haircut. So I made supper and sat at the table with my crunchy hair and even talked to this 11-year-old son of mine.
I would like to think that my beautiful personality overshadowed the ugly hair, making me beautiful in his eyes. I wonder if this also works for a double chin.
But it is more likely that he was intensely focused on his food and whether or not he could sweet talk me into making him a third tomato sandwich.