As strange as this will sound...my morning today began..yesterday. I told him he could borrow it. But emphasized NUMEROUS times, that he had better bring it back. I would need it. And although he made several cracks about the color of it, he promised he would not forget to bring it home. To his credit, he did remember to bring it home. Just not out of his truck, back into the house, and back where it belongs.
At 7:20 this morning, I am right on schedule. Because contrary to popular belief from the men in my house...I DO have a schedule that I follow every day. It's tight by golly, but it's a schedule.
I walk into the room to get started and it's not there. I stand there for a minute trying to force my mind to catch up with my eyesight. Then suddenly...I know. SO now the only question is, did he leave it where he took it, or is it riding around in his truck..with him? Because he had already left for TCC (college) about 20 minutes prior...and it's not looking good for either of us.
So I'm calling him now, wanting to know where my bleep bleepedy bleep HAIR DRYER is....I'm standing in the bathroom, hair soaking wet and this BOY on the other end of the phone says to me, “Aw #**#(….do you really need it?”. The phone went silent before another barrage of ugliness spewed from my lips. In all that carrying on, I asked where he was and he told me he had only made it to Midway which is about 15 minutes from our house.
Let me tell you people something, for those of you who have never seen my hair in person..it’s curly..like TIGHT curly. The amount of product required to look presentable would ASTOUND most. It HAS to be blown dry to some extent to get all the Shirley Temple out of it. I must stress that there is also a fine line in this “blowing out” process so that I do not end up looking like I stuck my finger in a light socket. It has happened. And it’s pretty dang scary looking.
The next thing that I had to consider, was he REALLY only in Midway, or too scared at this point to tell me he was sitting at his desk in his first class. However, he must have been telling the truth because 15 minutes later he slammed back into the driveway, got out, stomping, but holding, my PINK hair dryer.
And yes, the rest of my day really did go JUST LIKE THAT. It was discombobulated from the get go. I tried to prepare myself for it, because that’s just how it works. And I think I actually did pretty well considering; until the end of the day. I had had enough, I was starting to feel a little bit of puny going on, and I was ready to see the house and my recliner.
Now for those of you who may be wondering what in the world my 18 year old son wanted with MY PINK HAIR DRYER…well…he bought himself a new shotgun last week; a totally black one; that he intended to paint with the help of a friend of his. The hair dryer was going to be used to obviously dry the paint faster. I don’t know where that shotgun is, or what it looks like now, but I DO know where my PINK hair dryer is…and it had better stay there.