The Hair Cut ( and the aftermath)

Last week I looked in the mirror and gasped. Hair was definitely overdue for a cut and not the chop off my bangs myself because I'm too cheap to go and get it done right (usually I don't do too badly but last time . . .) I went in yesterday and after waiting for 30 minutes had my hair cut, washed and dried. I wear it below shoulder length and the stylist was shocked that I do not wear it down. "I teach little ones," I said. "Their hands are always in my hair and we do have a lice problem every now and then." Plus who has an extra hour for their hair every morning? Too easy to pull it back into a ponytail.

This morning I looked into the mirror and my hair still looked great. It's usually on the frizzy side and curls every way but the way it should. Now it's straight and sleek. I wore it down. Coworkers loved it. Some of my kids wanted to put their hands on it. (of course). One girl especially. Then my coteacher said - "She's been handing me boogers this morning." EEKS. Out came the ponytail holder. The magic had ended.