Yesterday was, to say the least, interesting. For the first time in a LONG time I was actually embarrassed. Since I have four kids and a kooky sense of humor I don't embarrass easily. I roll with the punches, and brush off almost everything quite easily.
Yesterday, for a solid ten minutes I was completely and totally "I can't believe this is happening."
I had a hair appointment at 9:30am. This was very exciting because I hadn't had a cut and color in about eight months. Can anyone say roots? Or mousy, brown unhighlighted hair? I don't have to say it, I was it. And I was ultra ready to rid myself of the terrible, overgrown "do" I was sporting.
When I sat in the chair, it crossed my mind I might not be out of the hair salon in time to get my daughter from preschool up the street. Cut and color can take about two hours, and I only had an hour and forty-five minutes.
Actually, less by the time the foils started going in my hair.
At about 11am, with a head full of foils and fifteen minutes before I was due to pick up my preschooler, I was thinking about how I was going to handle this. What's a mom to do?
I did the only thing I could have. I told the stylist I had to be right back. I asked for a towel, or anything to cover my tinfoil head. She laughed and told me to just go, that she's seen women do it before.
You know how when you hear something has happened before it kind of calms you? Like maybe it's normal? That's how I felt until I walked out the door of the salon onto Main Street. On Main Street I knew wearing foils out of the salon was not, in any way, normal. The reality of the situation punched me right in the face.
And when I pulled into the preschool? I sat for about five minutes in my car, wondering if I should just go get in line looking the freak I was or wait until almost all the kids were picked up and run in quick?
I went into the preschool and peeked to see how many parents were in line. There were too many. I caved in embarrassment and ran back to my car. I looked all over the van for a hat, or a hoodie. I had neither.
I breathed, went in again and turned again to go back to my car. Still couldn't face it.
On the way back to my car, I ran into one of the moms I've gotten to know better since school started. We both laughed, and she was all, "oh who cares!" She walked in with me, and as I turned the corner every mom was in a fit of giggles. I'm guessing they couldn't believe I had foils in my hair either.
Join the club.
I made a crack about being in the middle of an appointment, and I have to admit I was suddenly more comfortable. I'm so not the hiding kind.
When my four year old daughter saw me she looked very, very confused. I could tell she wanted to ask what the heck was on my head.
I reassured her I was in the middle of a hair appointment. Before she could respond, I told her to get used to it, that I'd be embarrassing her for a LONG time.
A very long time.
Happy Trails!
Yesterday, for a solid ten minutes I was completely and totally "I can't believe this is happening."
I had a hair appointment at 9:30am. This was very exciting because I hadn't had a cut and color in about eight months. Can anyone say roots? Or mousy, brown unhighlighted hair? I don't have to say it, I was it. And I was ultra ready to rid myself of the terrible, overgrown "do" I was sporting.
When I sat in the chair, it crossed my mind I might not be out of the hair salon in time to get my daughter from preschool up the street. Cut and color can take about two hours, and I only had an hour and forty-five minutes.
Actually, less by the time the foils started going in my hair.
At about 11am, with a head full of foils and fifteen minutes before I was due to pick up my preschooler, I was thinking about how I was going to handle this. What's a mom to do?
I did the only thing I could have. I told the stylist I had to be right back. I asked for a towel, or anything to cover my tinfoil head. She laughed and told me to just go, that she's seen women do it before.
You know how when you hear something has happened before it kind of calms you? Like maybe it's normal? That's how I felt until I walked out the door of the salon onto Main Street. On Main Street I knew wearing foils out of the salon was not, in any way, normal. The reality of the situation punched me right in the face.
And when I pulled into the preschool? I sat for about five minutes in my car, wondering if I should just go get in line looking the freak I was or wait until almost all the kids were picked up and run in quick?
I went into the preschool and peeked to see how many parents were in line. There were too many. I caved in embarrassment and ran back to my car. I looked all over the van for a hat, or a hoodie. I had neither.
I breathed, went in again and turned again to go back to my car. Still couldn't face it.
On the way back to my car, I ran into one of the moms I've gotten to know better since school started. We both laughed, and she was all, "oh who cares!" She walked in with me, and as I turned the corner every mom was in a fit of giggles. I'm guessing they couldn't believe I had foils in my hair either.
Join the club.
I made a crack about being in the middle of an appointment, and I have to admit I was suddenly more comfortable. I'm so not the hiding kind.
When my four year old daughter saw me she looked very, very confused. I could tell she wanted to ask what the heck was on my head.
I reassured her I was in the middle of a hair appointment. Before she could respond, I told her to get used to it, that I'd be embarrassing her for a LONG time.
A very long time.
Happy Trails!
Yesterday, for a solid ten minutes I was completely and totally "I can't believe this is happening."
I had a hair appointment at 9:30am. This was very exciting because I hadn't had a cut and color in about eight months. Can anyone say roots? Or mousy, brown unhighlighted hair? I don't have to say it, I was it. And I was ultra ready to rid myself of the terrible, overgrown "do" I was sporting.
When I sat in the chair, it crossed my mind I might not be out of the hair salon in time to get my daughter from preschool up the street. Cut and color can take about two hours, and I only had an hour and forty-five minutes.
Actually, less by the time the foils started going in my hair.
At about 11am, with a head full of foils and fifteen minutes before I was due to pick up my preschooler, I was thinking about how I was going to handle this. What's a mom to do?
I did the only thing I could have. I told the stylist I had to be right back. I asked for a towel, or anything to cover my tinfoil head. She laughed and told me to just go, that she's seen women do it before.
You know how when you hear something has happened before it kind of calms you? Like maybe it's normal? That's how I felt until I walked out the door of the salon onto Main Street. On Main Street I knew wearing foils out of the salon was not, in any way, normal. The reality of the situation punched me right in the face.
And when I pulled into the preschool? I sat for about five minutes in my car, wondering if I should just go get in line looking the freak I was or wait until almost all the kids were picked up and run in quick?
I went into the preschool and peeked to see how many parents were in line. There were too many. I caved in embarrassment and ran back to my car. I looked all over the van for a hat, or a hoodie. I had neither.
I breathed, went in again and turned again to go back to my car. Still couldn't face it.
On the way back to my car, I ran into one of the moms I've gotten to know better since school started. We both laughed, and she was all, "oh who cares!" She walked in with me, and as I turned the corner every mom was in a fit of giggles. I'm guessing they couldn't believe I had foils in my hair either.
Join the club.
I made a crack about being in the middle of an appointment, and I have to admit I was suddenly more comfortable. I'm so not the hiding kind.
When my four year old daughter saw me she looked very, very confused. I could tell she wanted to ask what the heck was on my head.
I reassured her I was in the middle of a hair appointment. Before she could respond, I told her to get used to it, that I'd be embarrassing her for a LONG time.
A very long time.
Happy Trails!
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