Time for a Haircut

Over the weekend, yes, that wonderful-weekend-that-was-ridding-my home-of-lice-weekend, Caleb looked up at me at one point and asked why I was still wearing my pajamas.

Now mind you, I had progressed a bit past pajamas. Or at least I had evolved my pajama look. I had hopped out of bed and added old hospital scrubs to my nightshirt look and even stuck a headband in my hair. Hey, when you have short, curly hair, your morning hair is kind of scary.

But as it went, that was my look for the day. And when Caleb asked me this, it was about 2:00 in the afternoon. But I had spent my morning making breakfast, cleaning breakfast, making lunch, cleaning up lunch, and, oh yeah, ridding my home of lice. So why get dressed. The bugs don't care and I was just going to practically boil whatever I was wearing when I was done anyways. Pajamas would do.

As Caleb asked me this, Noah was more concerned about my "crazy hair." I explained to him that having that aforementioned curly, short hair (and being a light sleeper) leads to wild big hair in the mornings. And that most days (weekdays) by the time they see me, I have showered and begun my four-hair-product routine. But in my battle with the bugs, I skipped showering on the front end.

Ok, so they got it.

I was driving the kids home from camp yesterday and Noah asked, in truly his most concerned, sensitive voice:

"Mom, did you not get a chance to shower yet today?"

[Mind you, I said I was driving them home from school and it was 5:00 and I had been very much in the office all day.]

Me: "No, Noah, I took a shower this morning. Why?"

Noah: "Oh, well you just have kind of your crazy hair, so I was worried you didn't get the time to shower."


Ok. And once again, reminded that there is nothing like kids to keep you humble. And that my hair stylist needs to get back form maternity leave so I can get a haircut.