Best Days

Best Days

I glanced at myself in the mirror as I was about to run out, big mistake. My clothes were clean, stylish, my shoes comfy, makeup perfect. But my hair, hair I had just fixed ten minutes ago, looked like tumbleweed caught in a tree! Natural curly, red hair. The bane of my existence. Yes, I was overdue for a trim. Trim, what a cute word, as if you could trim tumbleweed.

I had intended, since my last experience, to try and find a new hairdresser. I “intend” to do that with every hairdresser after a few visits. Natural curly hair might sound good, but in reality it’s a menace, and when it’s humid quite a bit more than a menace.

One of the happiest moments in my life was when my mother told me I was old enough to start brushing my own hair! It’s amazing how easy it is to get a snarl out of hair when its not your own, nor your own scalp being tortured. And the whole time someone yelling “Hold still!” as if you were just in a big hurry to go play, and not enduring torturous pain.

At work I perused the local hairdressers during my break. Surprised that there was apparently a new one right on my block! I made an appointment! At the very least, it was closer.

Walking in for my appointment, I was greeted by a Ms. Bubbly who looked me up and down and said I’m going to put you with Cindy. She’ll be out in a minute. And then, an actual minute later, Cindy walked out. Cindy who had the same exact natural curly hair on her head as mine! And it looked fabulous!

I have certainly added that day to the best days of my life list.