dear hair…

Dear Hair,

Y’know that poofy, bedhead/beachy thing that you do?  I just realized it’s not suitable for the office.  I know this probably is a shock to you.  It is, after all, the only style that you know.  Please know I’m not blaming you for that.  It’s not your fault.  It’s all my own fault  It’s my mom’s fault.

My mom is not a hairdresser.  Life experience tells me that hairdresser’s kids have flawless hair  – it’s just in their genes or something.  Maybe if my mom was a hairdresser, you and I could be more creative together.  But she wasn’t, and she never will be.  She’s a preschool director.  I could Play-Doh anyone into the ground with my inherited preschool skills.  But I cannot style you properly, Hair.  Husband thinks I should cut you short and add bangs, but that’s the same hairstyle Dora the Explorer has.  We are just gonna have to figure this out on our own.

Love, Me

PS – I blocked out my face in case one of my three readers is a stalker/murderer.

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