i consider myself to have been raised right. well, that’s not entirely true. my sister and i are actually shocked that we managed to grow up to be actual functioning members of society and not banging our heads against some padded wall all girl interrupted style.
only with way better hair and probably less dead chicken carcasses under our beds.
but crazyali aside…i’m a polite person. i say my pleases and thank yous. i say yes ma’am and no sir. i say “excuse me?” instead of “what?” or “huh?” and try my damndest not to say the word “yup” (because that word? gives. me. the. shakes.)
so, it caught me by surprise this morning when i held the door open for someone, even though she was miles away, and even though i had three bags and my grande nonfat iced latte (hot this morning warranted a cold coffee. i’ve never done this before) in hand….that she didn’t say thank you.
and before my innerAli could stop myself, i blurted out
i guess i say my pleases and thank yous. but i’m still a bitch.
so..remember my bald daughter?
she was born bald..
and was bald at age 1…
and bald at age 2..
but right before she hits age 3….well…lookie what we have here…
a head full of CURLS.
(ps. she’s watching Enchanted in the background. it’s all we watch these days. “mommy, i need princess ‘iselle”)
and a mother who is freaking out. have you seen MY hair? STRAIGHT. i don’t know how to deal with curly hair. SEND HELP. STAT. or she’s going to be that giant frizzball walking around that you take one look at and are all “what’s wrong with her mother? didn’t she ever teach her about product?!?!”
product? the only product my stick straight hair needs is SHAMPOO and CONDITIONER. i’ve glanced past the product shelves and have been all confused…mousse? gel? hairspray? what are these things? what are they used for?
and finally…answer me this…
the last song i listened to was _________________
(my answer: Happiness is a Warm Gun by The Beatles. which, incidentally, is my all-time favorite Beatles song.)