In sharp contrast to how I spent Monday evening, I spent Tuesday evening getting my hair ‘done’. Ahhhhh, two solid hours of peace and quiet… no kiddos yanking on my shirt, or asking to be fed, or whining about some iniquity within the familial structure.
And a People magazine firmly in my grip. I never get to read People unless I’m at the salon or the doctor’s office. And we all know how I feel about the doctor.
When I was getting ready to leave for the salon, the kiddos pelted me with questions.
After all, it is quite rare that I spend any time at all away from them.
“Where are you going?” ~ curious daughter #1
“I’m going to get my hair cut.”
“Cut? Didn’t you just get your hair cut?” ~ curious daughter #1, again
(It’s been 8 weeks, but to them it probably seems like yesterday since being away from them is quite the “occasion”)
“Yes. Cut and colored.”
“Colored?” ~ all, in unison
“Yes, colored. I have them add some blonde to my hair.”
“I didn’t know you got your hair colored!” ~ very wise son #1
“Blonde? I thought your hair was blonde and you had some brown added!” ~ very very wise son #2
Indeed, last night was very, very good for the soul.