Looking Scary with my Fried HairYes. That is a very scary picture. But this is a very scary story.
A couple of weeks ago I flew to Minnesota to see siblings four and eight and to spend some time with my adorable Godson.
I had left my straightening iron, which I often use to tame my curly hair, at home. I did this because my girls have all inherited the bad hair gene from me and the straightening iron is an important part of their everyday lives. I thought it would be mean to take it with me. I thought that one of the siblings, who both also have the bad hair gene, would be happy to share theirs with me.
And that act of kindness cost me dearly.
One day during my visit, Sibling Eight and her husband and son went to a baby shower.
While they were away, I decided it would be a perfect time to complete the hour-long task of straightening my hair.
I searched around until I found the straightening iron and plugged it in. I came back to the bathroom a few minutes later and grabbed a big chunk of hair from the top of my head and started pulling the iron through the curls.
Suddenly, I noticed a bad smell. Looking down at the iron, I saw several pieces of singed hair clinging to the hinge. Thinking they were just pieces that were left behind from the last time the iron was used, I grabbed another section of my hair, snapped the iron in place and began to pull.
And then I smelled the bad smell again. Leaning forward over the counter, I took a good look at the top of my head.
And then I let out a terrible yell.
Tune in tomorrow to find out if Five of Nine found a way to rescue her burned mane . . . . .
A couple of weeks ago I flew to Minnesota to see siblings four and eight and to spend some time with my adorable Godson.
I had left my straightening iron, which I often use to tame my curly hair, at home. I did this because my girls have all inherited the bad hair gene from me and the straightening iron is an important part of their everyday lives. I thought it would be mean to take it with me. I thought that one of the siblings, who both also have the bad hair gene, would be happy to share theirs with me.
And that act of kindness cost me dearly.
One day during my visit, Sibling Eight and her husband and son went to a baby shower.
While they were away, I decided it would be a perfect time to complete the hour-long task of straightening my hair.
I searched around until I found the straightening iron and plugged it in. I came back to the bathroom a few minutes later and grabbed a big chunk of hair from the top of my head and started pulling the iron through the curls.
Suddenly, I noticed a bad smell. Looking down at the iron, I saw several pieces of singed hair clinging to the hinge. Thinking they were just pieces that were left behind from the last time the iron was used, I grabbed another section of my hair, snapped the iron in place and began to pull.
And then I smelled the bad smell again. Leaning forward over the counter, I took a good look at the top of my head.
And then I let out a terrible yell.
Tune in tomorrow to find out if Five of Nine found a way to rescue her burned mane . . . . .
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1 comment:
It's tomorrow - where the heck is the rest of the story? This is a good one! I wait for the final chapter with bated breath. JR
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