Rick phoned several evenings ago while I was sitting on my bed, knee deep in editing my book and with my hair in foam rollers. Now you know two things about me. I curl my hair the old fashioned way and there is nothing romantic about where I write.
I’d rather you think I write in more glamorous surrounding so could you just pretend that I am sitting in a sunny breakfast nook overlooking a country garden like the ones that appear on the cover of your favorite magazine?
Rick had called to inform me that someone was coming to our house to pick up a package.“Are you kidding me? My hair is in curlers.”“So! What’s the problem? He’s not coming to look at you.” Rick said. “He’s coming to pick up an important package.”
“Well unless he’s blind he’s going notice my pink, black, and lime green rollers. If the package is so important why didn’t you remember to take it with you? Who’s coming anyway?”
Well it just didn’t get any better than this; it was the husband of my hairdresser. I’m sure he has seen women in worse repair but not me.
“Rick, have him come when you get home.”
“Honey I can’t. Just give him the package on the counter. He’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Love you, thanks.”
“Wonderful, just wonderful!” I said into the dead phone.
RIAGMRRRGRRR… Rick was always doing things like this to me. We could be lying in bed when the doorbell rings and will he get the door? No! And why you ask? Because I am the only one wearing pajamas. It’s that or freeze my kaboobies off. He likes to keep the room as cold as an outdoor hockey rink. Of course the door is always for him. I ought to be nominated for sainthood.
Someone pulled into the driveway. Crap, what was I going to do now? If I hurried maybe I could get to the door before he got up the front steps. I ran into the bathroom and picked up the only towel I could see.
I wrapped the fifteen hundred yards of thick terrycloth around my head, grabbed the package and staggered to the door under the weight of the towel. I happened to glance at myself in the mirror in the entry way. It looked like I was wearing a feather mattress on my head.
I opened the door just as he stepped on the first stair. I knew those fourteen steps to the front door were going to come in handy some day. “Here’s the package.” I said as I set it on the top step.The weight of my towel almost threw me onto my face as I knelt to put the package down.
“Love to chat but I have something on the stove.”
I slammed the door shut. I had just lied. Did I care? No! I don’t care if I am seen without makeup, mascara, or in my pajama’s but no one sees me in rollers. That is just too 60’s. I actually remember going downtown in rollers with a scarf on my head way back then.
UGH…. Now you know I am old enough to be a throw back from the 60’s, that I curl my hair with the same rollers I used on my daughter’s. Oops I never told you that… I really need to just shut up before I give up the location of the crown jewels I stole when I went to visit the Queen.
Help! I can’t stop…I am so outta here.
5 comments:
SO funny! I loved reading your entertaining, hilarious story and imagining you going through all that!
Those foam rollers are the bomb! No wear and tear on your hair like curling irons. I've used them a lot in my day!
I'm so glad my husband knows me REALLY, REALLY well - he'd never dare pull a prank like that because he's knows I'd freak out for 72 years after. But I'm worse than you, I've come up with various wild excuses for not coming to the door without makeup or if I'm wearing something not particularly attractive- I just make my kids deliver the message! Thanks, Jane!
LOL.
I can't say I've ever had a problem with rollers, or even with feeling like I wasn't presentable in public. Something about being bald and male makes my get-ready-time next to zero.
But I am the night-gofer. If anything happens at night, I'm usually the one taking care of it. I feel for ya.
What a funny tale you tell. I totally understand the whole presentable thing. Guys truly have it easy in that department, no makeup to worry about, hair that can be tamed with a quick run of the fingers through it and the whole pajama thing isn't a problem either, they just answer the door in their undies.
I love how real you make life, I can relate to just about everything you are willing to share.
I answer the door looking horrendous all the time, but I don't wear curlers. Maybe you should try round brushing your hair. Just a thought.
lol! You are too cute! Two pregnancies later, my hair naturally curls now, but I used rollers in high school sometimes. There's NOTHING wrong with rollers. (Or keeping the house temp really cold, for that matter.) ;) Thanks for the smile!
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