It was the next day after my husband left for a fishing trip to Minnesota with his brother and a buddy. Why is it that everything seems to break down when hubby goes somewhere? The night before, the waterspout on the refrigerator offered a preview of things to come when it suddenly developed three spouts instead of its usual one. Hubby was still here so that got fixed.
My hair tends to be stubborn. Somedays, it falls perfectly in place exactly as I intended. Other days, no matter how much coaxing, my hairstyle looks like I just got out of bed.
Sunday morning happened to be a day when each strand cooperated and fell into place. So, my next step was to spray the perfectly coiffured style with hairspray—to keep it that way. (I know. The younger ladies merely blow-dry and go. Or use flatirons. I can’t get the hang of those things.)
I love to listen to my Spotify app while I’m getting dressed. Sandi Patty vocalized a soul stirring rendition of “It Is Well With My Soul.” I didn’t pay much attention when I grabbed the hairspray and showered my hair with the lovely spray with the aroma of fresh peaches. Wait. My spray didn’t smell like that. My mouth fell open when I glanced in the mirror. As if I’d become lost in a snowstorm, my hair was covered in a white substance. I had used a spray mousse, and my hair was covered in foam.
Dabbing the stuff with a washcloth to knock off the excess, I wanted to wash my hair and start all over, but no, I had to leave in five minutes. Instead of that perfect hairstyle, my hair hung loosely around my shoulders going this way and that. I hoped no one would mention it.
But wait! That wasn’t all that happened that first day my husband was gone. Episode two will be coming up soon.