Saturday, May 14, 2011
At the hair salon. Not the 1st hair salon with the crazy appointment time....12:30p.m. Yes. 5 hours before prom. Wait. No. Cancelled.
Really. The ONLY appointment! The prom is at 7p.m. Called another salon...and another...and another. Uh oh.
Grace was calm. We decided I could handle the curly locks pony tail that she wanted. No problem. Until I realized the mother daughter hair involvements I've lived through over the years. I called some salons in post prom towns. Score! 4:15!
I had just told the kids my traumatic story. The horror! Scarred for life because of my mom .....taking picture after picture of the wrong girl at a rather important 6th grade event. On the night before the momentous occasion, my mother curled my hair with pink foam curlers...lots and lots of pink foam curlers. My hair was so curly the next day...my own mother, the same woman who had given birth to me...only 11 years before...took pictures of the wrong girl.
I waved. Quietly. It didn't seem appropriate to create a scene. Mom. Mom. Hi mom, it's me...over here. When the film was developed, we had a whole roll of the other 11 year old...you know, the 11 year old with the straight hair. Maybe 2 pictures of me.
Issues? Who? Me? You betcha. I couldn't. let history repeat itself. Off we went to the 4:15
T.J. and I were just sitting. Quietly. Chatting about the simple stuff. No agenda. No rush. Just sitting. Cats. Dogs. Biff passing by. Stopping. Talking. Sitting. Grace singing. Pausing to listen. Sitting. Me. Biff. T.J. Grace. Dogs. Cats.Petting. Cell phones. Messages. Chatting. Facebook. Chatting. Commenting. Laughing. Comfy. Calm. Quiet. Family.