Saturday, May 26, 2007

Hair Stories Part Six

Ryen wrote about his rainbow of hair colors during his college days. Ryen, did you do that between visits to Fargo? I only remember the cranberry and tell tale grow outs. I did see you in hot pink but I thought it was a wig. Oops.

Rachel writes answers in her blog today about her extensions. I was reading out loud to my sweet Thomas about how she had lost some of the hair and would have that reattached; as a bald on top guy, he wished he could do that.

I have another story for you. Do you remember what the curlers looked like that Julia used? Well, she gave me some. I took them home and one Friday night, I washed my hair and set it in Grandma style . Keep in mind that five rollers went a long way for her and if she needed five then I needed ten positioned randomly throughout my thick strong, straight hair.

I did not, in my youth, know how to set my hair nor did I understand the consquences of not carefully tucking in the ends. I would learn this much later from a guy who went to beauty school.

After a little labor and ten curlers in, I credited myself for the first time I had done my own hair! Morning came and Mother called me for breakfast. I took out the curlers and sort of fluffed it up like grandma did. But there was something really wrong! Instead of cute little bumps combed out to a fluffy look, I had chunky bumps with what looked like little pieces of barbs from wire with-a-go-where-I-want-to-go look. It was pretty bad. There wasn't anything I could do about it except come downstairs.

Daddy was sitting at the dining room table eating his breakfast as I descended. He choked on his eggs because he was laughing so hard. I turned on a dime and ran up the stairs. I knew how bad it looked but I never expected him to laugh at me. I thought my new do would be invisible to him.

Mother hollered, "STAN" from the kitchen. That meant he needed to hush.

He hollered up the stairs, "I'm sorry, Poke, I promise I won't laugh". Once again I came down stairs and once again he giggled. And, once again I stomped up the stair way.

Mother came to the stairs next. She said Daddy would eat in the kitchen. "Come down, she said, your breakfast is getting cold".

I was pretty choked up as I sat at the table eating breakfast and listening to Daddy snicker in the kitchen.

I can not go back and find the anger nor can I find how hurt I was. What I can do, is find the humor in it. I can now giggle about it. The beauty of it is I can hear Daddy's giggle, as well.

Wishing you memories of laughter and great rejoicing



ryen.anderson said...

i must have done it all between trips to Fargo. Maybe I was always inspired in the spring time!

Rachel Thomae said...

Yes, I'm lucky that the strands can be reattached. Whoever said you can't glue your hair back on after it falls out was WRONG. *teasing smile*

I had the wild idea that it would be a good idea to try foam rollers in the hair, so Jaeme and I got some and slept in them one night. Boy, did we wake up with a big mess of curly, poufy, pointy edged hair. Lucky we've got tools like scented detangling spray and flat irons as a before school fix!


Oh dear! I did that once when my hair was long. Ryen may remeber me asking for his hat to wear to work and all the bobby pins I left in it!