This past Saturday was a good hair day for me. And since they only come about a couple times a week, I hate wasting it on a Saturday. Especially a Saturday where no one I know is going to see me. Probably shouldn't admit such vanity, but there it is.
I went to Whole Foods late morning. This store is not a venue where people notice good hair days. They're all about their organic food and having their hair up in a bun so you can see the tattoo on their neck. But that's okay. I still felt good strolling around looking for Rye and Nayonaise.
When I got home, it was time to get lunch for the girls and then start in on laundry and such. As the afternoon wore on, I realized my housework activity was increasing my body temperature. To the point that I felt I needed to put my hair up to get some relief. But when I saw myself in the mirror, I just couldn't. What if someone came to the door? How could I deny them my good hair day? So I left it alone ... and sweat.
Then it was time to go outside and pick up dog poop. Those two puppies looked at me longingly. Some might think they were just giving me attention so I would stop with the poop cleaning, and give them some belly scratchin', but I like to think they were admiring my hair. (Have I taken this too far yet?)
Okay, so now it's evening and Megan's in the tub. It's killing me that no one has seen my hair to comment on it, so I stoop lower than I have in a while and ask ...
Me: Megan, do you think my hair looks good?
Me: Thank you.
Megan: Sure ... but it always looks like that.
Oh, she has so much to learn.