... get your hair cut? If you're like me, you usually come last, meaning unimportant things like getting your hair trimmed can always wait. Sometimes they even wait for months on end, even up to a year. Yup, that's me. I usually manage to get a hair cut once a year on our anniversary.
This year was going to be different. Super Man's Mother's Day gift to me was taking over with the caregiving while I went out the Saturday before Mother's Day so that I could go to the salon. No biggie, really. Until I got home.
It turned out a little shorter than I had planned, mostly because the ends were so ruined by now that the stylist, Jennifer, told me she'd have to do an intervention to rescue what she could. She did a great job and I hurried home feeling beautiful.
Luckily everybody liked my new hair and they weren't even pretending! What a great Mother's Day gift.
And then there's Nana: she absolutely adores my new hair. A little too much almost. Not only do I look great, I look alot younger, alot less tired since it hides the bags under my eyes, and a whole lot prettier than ever before. Clearly I should have done this years ago. Nobody said a word, but now I know that prior to my daring trim, I must have looked absolutely atrocious, completely haggard, ugly beyond belief and about a hundred years old.
Well, I guess I can deal with a few compliments. Trouble is that every morning Nana re-informs me of how disgusting I looked before I had my hair cut. Now that I look fourteen again, she's convinced I could pass for one or both of my daughters and giggles just thinking about how everybody else must see the same thing.
I guess I can live with this daily assault on my self-image. On second thought, when I go out to pick up our next load of prescriptions at the pharmacy later today, I'd better wear a bag, in case somebody recognizes me.