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A bad hair day

When you live alone for as many years as I did, you learn to hook your own bracelets, zip your own dress, determine for yourself if something matches, the skirt fits, or if your hair looks okay. There’s no one around to ask, so you make your own determination.

When I walked into the kitchen Friday morning, the kids were eating breakfast at the table. They both turned and stared.

Ana: “Did you fix your hair already?”

Me: “Um, yes. I’m ready for work.”

Long pause.

Yoseph: “But…it’s kind of sticking up. You should look in the mirror.”

Me, defensively: “I just came from the bathroom mirror! I meant to do this.”

Both kids raised their eyebrows and went back to their Cheerios.

Nothing like an honest reaction to let me know that I overdid it on the sea salt volumizing spray!

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