Tuesday, December 27, 2011
I'll Give You A Quarter If you Brush My Hair
I was feeling a little sorry for myself this morning when I got up to get ready to go to work. You see, the rest of my family has the week off as part of their winter break. Me? I am lucky to get Christmas off. So, my husband and children were all still sleeping soundly - probably having really good dreams - as I trudged out the door, shoulders slumped, ready to keep my fingers poised on the keyboard and my eyes on the clock, waiting for 5 p.m. to come. To say the least, I was not looking forward to going to work today (okay, THIS WEEK), knowing my husband and children would be at home . . . having fun . . . without me.
And then the lightbulb went on! I remembered that I had an appointment to get my hair cut this morning! I love getting my hair cut. I love to have my hair brushed or played with or even just touched. Just run your fingers through my hair, over and over and over, and you'll be my friend for life. I've always been that way. It relaxes me like nothing else. I used to pay my brother and my niece to brush my hair (not at the same time). My mother used to play with my hair . . . I didn't even have to pay her. And now my husband plays with my hair while we watch TV. It is heaven. And he is an angel.
All of a sudden, leaving my family this morning to enjoy life without me didn't seem quite so bad. Afterall, I got to have my hair played with for an hour before I went into work! And that makes getting up all worth it! Maybe I'll get up again in another six weeks!