I tried smashing it down but it just popped back up.
I should jump immediately in the shower and let hot water and shampoo
work its magic...but I REALLY want a cup of coffee.
Wait! I'm the only one here, who's going to see me?
You know they're thinking..."What the heck is up with Mom's hair?"
(Luckily they are easily bribed with doggy biscuits.)
With coffee in hand, I head to the sofa to check on the morning news -
hoping it isn't too awful. It's 9:15 am and the news is awful.
What's that noise? A FedEx truck pulling in the driveway. Maybe he'll
just leave the box and go away. No such luck. Doorbell rings, doggies go
into a fit of barking, and I briefly think about my hair and wonder if I would look
weird answering the door with a dish towel on my head. Probably.
So I suck it up, put on my best Miss America smile and fling open the door.
"Package for "Joe Schmoe, can you sign?" he says with a smirky little smile.
What! There's no "Joe Schmoe" here. Wrong address.
As I close the door and head for the shower, I think...
"This is what's known as a bad hair day."
So dear friends, I hope you are well coiffed and having a lovely day.