No, not a mustache. Old lady jokes are not funny. I shave every morning. Now, see, that didn't make you laugh, did it? Okay, well, maybe the Brother of Many Surgeries laughed, but he don't count no how.
No, not the brilliant, bulging forehead. Mine is quite normal.
No, not the faraway look in the eye showing magnificent and non-understanding by anyone but me thoughts going on in my head.(Although I have plenty of thoughts nobody understands, but it ain't because they are brilliant.)
It's my hair.
You see, I washed it yesterday afternoon and did nothing to it.
No curling iron, no nothing.
The results are stunning. As in, "Lord have mercy, woman, what have you done?"
Makes people pay attention.
I guess the humidity did something, too. It did not stay in the cute little ringlet curls, but truly turned into a frizz festival that scared even the cats.
I think they thought I had an animal on my head.
The only non-reactions I got were from Daughter, who was, of course, busy. Like, you know, texting, and couldn't look up. My hair could have been on fire and she wouldn't have noticed until I started to scream. Then, she would have held up a hand in a 'just a moment' gesture before looking up.
The other non-reaction was from Molly, a.k.a., Dog. Dogs love you unconditionally. She did eye my head though, and I could tell she was wishing I'd bend down a little so she could lick a hair or two into place. But she didn't make snide comments or cringe in horror.
Dogs. (Wo)man's best friend.
Yep. Good old Molly.
But that wasn't quite good enough, so I got busy and fixed my hair.
Nobody noticed.
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