Yesterday I went to get my hair colored. It was long overdue and my children were starting to play count the gray hairs during dinner. They are so good to their mother.
As i sat with the color penetrating my hair shafts I reached for my pink cell phone. I dug around in my chronically unorganized purse and it was no where to be found. I borrowed a phone and called my phone just to be sure I hadn’t missed it in what my kids call “the black hole”. (Aren’t you jealous you don’t have my kids?) I shushed everyone while I held my chemically covered head down to listen for the familiar ring,”Brown Eyed Girl”. All I heard was silence and the sound of my heart beating faster with the thought of being without my phone.
I went out in to the freezing cold with a wet head to check my van only to discover that “Brown Eyed Girl” was not playing their either. At this point I seriously considered driving home while my hair was processing and getting my phone.
Before icicles formed in my hair I went back inside and decided I was strong enough to survive for the next hour totally detached from the world. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t know if my daughter had made it the two miles home from school, e-mails went unanswered and nobody on Facebook had any idea what I was doing.
I raced home to discover the world hadn’t changed much while my hair color was changing.
I was a little ashamed of my addiction but was still very giddy to have my little pink friend back by my side.