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So yesterday I went to get highlights in my hair. Since it’s near impossible to see the highlights in wet, curly hair and she had the time, the stylist asked if I would like her to straighten my hair – flat iron it. Since I’ve never had it straightened (well, once a long time ago when straightening meant blow drying it to death) I decided to let her have at it and see how it looked.
It was like having someone else’s hair on my head. By the way the boys and Tom’s faces looked when I got home, I could tell that (after they picked their jaws up and properly re-attached them) straight was not for me. Even our neighbor’s daughter that I picked up (I figured I’d get a female opinon) thought I was meant to have curly hair. Since open house was last night, a quick shower restored me to my former (and evidently meant-to-be) curliness.
Here’s the picture – but no laughing.