Yes - This Is The Look I Was Going For (Thanks For Asking)

A couple of weeks ago I got my hair cut shorter than usual. Inspired by the new style, I asked my hairdresser to show me how I could curl my stick-straight hair in a way that would actually hold for times when I wanted a different look. She gave me some tips and recommended a curling iron and products that would help me achieve the look I wanted.

It was a Friday and therefore a day off work so I took the opportunity to purchase the curling iron and products my stylist recommended and then spent some extra time trying out my new style. Pleased with the results, I sprayed it with one of the new products as a test to see if my curls would hold and went about the business of the rest of my day without giving further thought to my sassy, new hairstyle.

That night was the Talent Show at school and although no Crandlers were participating, we were all looking forward to attending. As Maggie and I stood chatting in the kitchen, waiting to leave, Dylan came in at least four times asking our opinions on various t-shirts and hats. Amused by Dylan's concern for his “look,” I had forgotten all about my own new hairstyle, until he looked at me, cocked his head to one side and scrunched his face ever-so-slightly. When I raised an eyebrow at him in an obvious, but silent, “What?” he said, “Lori, are you sure you’re completely satisfied with the way your hair looks?”

Maggie’s mouth fell open and she smacked him in the back of the head, but I remained calm thinking, “I can't wait to see him talk his way out of this one,” and patiently anticipated his back-pedal. Watching his face, I could clearly see the wheels in his head spinning wildly. I let him squirm for a minute or two, enjoying his discomfort, before finally letting him off the hook with, “Messy-curly is what I was going for, Dylan.”

Relief swept over him in a giant wave, his shoulders visibly relaxing and his face clearly registering, “Oh thank god,” as he let out an audible, “Whew,” with a huge rush of air he had been holding in his lungs while waiting for my reaction.

While watching him squirm was fun, I think next time (and I’m reasonably certain there will be a next time) I’ll go with a bordering-on-hysterical, “What do you mean am I completely satisfied with my hair? You think my hair is ugly, don’t you? And I suppose my butt looks big in these jeans too?” That ought to scare him away from talking to girls or even thinking about dating for another few years at least.

The benefits of having me as a roommate, while not always obvious, are nonetheless numerous. You’re welcome, Maggie.