Saturday, June 21, 2008

Near Death Experience OR I Shat On Your Head

Runs With Scissors scores another eventful mishap-this time with flare.
My day starting off as usual with a quick shower, palm full of hair gel and the quick blow- dry and style.
Leaning from the waist I bend, (so that all my follicles are standing on end, giving my bob body) starting at the roots of my hair, I blow. Suddenly, *&!^*^, sparks shoot from my hand held dryer, the smell of singed hair strong in the room. Hmmmm, could be a short in the cord. So I TURN IT ON AGAIN. (See where the dangerous in me comes out, I ignore the inevitable warnings, such as sparks that produce fire! I really should wear a helmet – ALWAYS) Again, it shoots fire – then dies. The sparks burnt my arm just a little. My hair resembles a cross between Don King and Amy Winehouse on crack. (did I say that out loud? Sorry Amy, I would want to accuse you of anything, it’s not like me to JUDGE.)

My granddaughter and her mother, my stepdaughter came by for lunch and to swim. We had a great time. When they were ready to leave, I walked them to the car in my driveway. Blowing kisses to the Little Miss, already strapped in her car seat in the back, I feigned receiving her blown smooches, by tossing my head back to catch the blow. We giggled and heard three loud smacks, like loud spatters that HUGE droplets of water would make if dropped from above my head. Large bird turds is what they were! One on the part of my hair on the top of my head, one on my arm and a large one on my temple and glasses. EWWWW! They left quickly, the party is over! I washed my hair for the second time that day, but, and here’s the silver lining, the lemon aide made from the ripe old lemons of life, wait for it… I got to use my new hair dryer! Hope you’re having a good hair day too!

4 comments:

Carbon Based said...

Just how have you lived to this ripe old age? I can't believe we share the same genetic material. LOL

Lara@Paper Doll said...

Ick! We used to live in New York and I somehow always escaped the pigeon's wrath. My husband? Not so lucky. I think they learned to pick him out of a crowd.

Dianna said...

Shat.
Shitted.
Had shat.
Had done shitted.

Geez, why do they never cover THAT in school? I would hate to look stoopid using it incorrectly.

Glad you didn't ignite yourself Ma'am*!*

Manager Mom said...

That's supposed to be good luck, isn't it? To be shit/shat/shut upon?