I am not a fan of having natural curls. In my opinion, they are not pretty, not attractive and all around a big, finger in a light socket look. I despise my hair...really, all the time. After having Owen it refuses to look good. It's dry (I am about to buy the sleek and shine stuff in the ethnic section), it's frizzy, it's UGLY. I am aware...but, it is just plain rude to ask me if my day is going bad because my hair looks terrible...BOSS MAN. You my friend are on notice.
It's all in good fun...blah blah blah. He will appreciate the bill I put on his desk for reimbursement to get my hair did...
I believe that the Asian woman at the Chinese place I stopped at to get my soup today also commented on my hair. Ahhh, love crazy hair. Really...I paid her in change.
(which, as a side note, I have now begun to pay for my lunches in change since I have decided that since I do the laundry in the house what I find becomes mine and if it happens to be quarters and dimes so I can buy hot and sour soup and a cookie then lucky me. I happen to know that my Aunt Ricki found $100 or something once while doing family laundry. I bet she gave it back...she is a better person. I would have TOTALLY kept it and bought myself something pretty and never told.)
Last week the day care called me to tell me that Owen was crying. Um...you're a day care, are you not used to this? Apparently because my baby ROCKS and never cries this was cause for alarm. I spent all of yesterday with him alone because the stupid Falcon's were in town and became witness to this cry. Um...I believe it is what they call a temper tantrum and I think 9 months may be too young for this. TERRIBLE STUFF.
We did find a play ground while walking this weekend and Owen had a wonderful time on the swings. It was a war getting him back into his seat so we could stroll on home. We will be swinging again tonight. I will try to take pictures...action shots if you will.
I have a headache, want to go home and I guess cut my hair off with kitchen scissors.