The Child Iseults new hair-do is taking up 20 minutes of my morning! 7:15 to 7:35 finds me competing in "Shear Genius" from the safety of the girls bathroom. She needs straightened, daily.
I hate my hair, it's been the bane of my life.
I have BIG hair.
It has the ability to reduce even the best hairdressers to tears. It lives a life of it's own.
Feral hair.
It is wild and unruly and will not be tamed. It has parties and never invites me.
Even in school photographs there it is "getting down with it's bad self" while I cringe underneath it's determined, demented antics.
These days I have nothing to do with it.
I cut it off last year and send a wad of it to Locks of Love. They were supposed to write back to say they had received it. Never heard a thing.
My guess is it escaped the zip-lock and is now blowing free.
It felt good to be rid of the majority of it but as nature would have it, more has taken it's place.
It's decided to change colour to try and confuse me but I'm no-body's fool and the new Grey beast is, if anything, even more out of control than it's brown counterpart ever was!
Thankfully none of my children have inherited it, they all have the sex bombs erstwhile sleek locks.
Actually I wonder if I was a 60's medical trial.
Give your baby thick curls, one pill ensures lifetime results!
Side effects may include:- loss of control, excessive growth, unnatural height, unnatural width, lack of discipline, tormenting professional hairdressers, wide eyed stares from the public, the need to use landscape settings when taking portraits and
some psychotherapy may be required.
I am living testament that the side effects HAPPENED, indeed are happening, even as I
type!
Hair, who needs it? The sex bomb manages quite nicely with not one blade on his cute wee pate.
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