The Dime

Friday morning and I have but a few hours left before our big event.
 It has been 26 days with out a day of rest.  My list is made and we will work until its all done.

I get in the shower, only to discover the mess my daughter has left.
Apparently she took a bath last night and she didn't bother to drain her water.
Not, how I wanted to start my morning. I grab my tub cleaner and begin scrubbing.
I've lost precious time and now I won't have time to fix my hair.
I decide that will not be a problem, I will put it up in a pony tail.
I reach for my hair spray, in hopes that it will keep my hair in place.
I spray it on thicker than usual. I notice a thick white foam sitting on my head.
That is when I realize that I am spraying tub cleaner on my hair.
No time to rewash my hair. I grab the bottle of hairspray and spray it over the tube cleaner.

All day I battle with getting my list complete. I hustle and bustle,  finally 8:30 rolls around.
My husband calls and asks, if I've eaten dinner. I tell him, "I'm starved".
We decide to meet at an eatery on Soncy.

I run to the bathroom to freshen up. I take my hair down and I am shocked at what I see.
My hair has an undesirable crispiness to it. I'm thinking I should of taken the time to rewash my hair.
It is 8:30 pm and no beauty salon is open. It hits me,  my husband is about to go to a barbershop.
I know what your thinking but at this point this is my only shot.
I call and ask if they will cut my hair. They agree and I am relieved.
I print a picture of a short haircut, off the Internet.

When my husband walks in I am already in line for my hair cut. He knows me o so well.
He is horrified and asks what I'm doing. I tell him I am in line for a haircut and the two men behind
him stare in bewilderment.
In a hushed voice through clinched teeth, my husband responds. "They don't cut girls hair here!"
I reply with a gentle, "Oh yes they do, I called and asked."
My husband turns around and takes his seat as I head to my "barbers chair".

I hand my short hair cut picture over. I sit for a very short time and as I am handed the mirror.
I notice I have just received a bowl cut slash skater boy hair cut. I am beside myself.
I am disgusted with my bowl cut, I guess the bowl on the counter should of given me a hint.
I just thought it was a candy bowl.

I arrive at home and my 9 year old runs out to greet me. He begins to tell me of his day.
I am not paying attention my focus is still on my hair. Who invented the bowl cut anyway?
He is waving papers in front of me and all I hear is "I'm selling them for a dime",
that catches my attention. I ask "why are you selling bookmarks for a dime?"

He begins to explain how he made them and took them to school to sell. I immediately
begin to think of how I will explain this to his teacher. I hear, "Mom do you know what I'm selling them for?"
I start to explain that he can't sell things in school. My baby boy responds,
"Mom I am going to take the dimes and buy food to help the poor people"
"Just like you mom." All of the sudden my bowl cut doesn't matter.

Anybody want to buy a handmade paper bookmark?