It was a beautiful June morning. The sun seemed extraordinarily bright as it rose over the horizon to start the day. All seemed at peace. All seemed right.
Nothing had changed about her morning routine. The same old, roll over, check the clock and pet the cat that was sitting on her chest. Her lovely cat. He was the light of her eye some days. He made her laugh and woke her religiously every morning.
Hopping out of bed, fully rested, she begins the rest of her routine. In the shower, brushing teeth, feed the chattering cat, etc. All seemed right. That is up until she began the last leg of her otherwise normal routine. The blow drying.
She'd been blowing her hair for years now. Nothing new really, and certainly nothing new this morning. Except the new brush. Her hair dresser had recommended this new fangled brush that was supposed to add body and help curl the tendrils under. She proceeded using her normal technique. Wait...what? What's this? The ... Brush... is... stuck...
Oh this wasn’t' right. She knew immediately that something terrible had transpired and that she'd surely be paying the piper for this mess. With each move of the brush, she made it worse. Defeated, she stood there, gazing at her reflection weighing her options. She could leave the brush, but that would take some explaining. Calling 911 was an option, but this really wasn't an emergency - and what if it were cute EMTs that came to her rescue...surely she'd not want to look like this. This thing staring back from her. The matted mess of hair so tangled that only a surgeon could get it out.
Scissors! Oh yes, she has scissors. She can cut it out. Wait, she's certainly no Vidal Sassoon. But she knew she had to do it. There was no other answer. She'd cut her bangs before, this couldn't be that difficult.
She methodically checked all her drawers for the right pair of scissors. She couldn't use kitchen shears as they would likely lop off her entire head. When alas, the little tiny scissors gleamed with a warm welcome that only a person who's new hair brush was stuck in her hair could appreciate.
With each snip she just new this was going to be her ruin. She almost cried remembering the last time she cut her own bangs. How would she explain this? How was she going to face her friends with this new - um - look? Oh the pain. The agony. The embarrassment.
When the last of the snipping ended, she looked wishfully at her reflection. The brush was removed without any harm coming to the bristles of the brush. And yet, her beautiful locks looked, well they look like a freaking 5 year old cut them.
Her lovely brush now lay unwanted in the trash encased with mounds of beautiful snarled hair.
She knew what she had to do. She had to face the music and go to work. And she'd tell this tale to anyone who listened, or anyone who noticed her microscopic bangs. And she'd warn them about THE BRUSH.
The End.
Coming to a theater near you.
Produced by: Vidal Sassoon
Executive Producer: PookieSnackenBurger (aka Pookie)
Lead: Jenn "Short Bangs"Wraspir
Extras: Shiny Scissors, Misc 4 Letter words, useless brush, and the blow dryer.
6 comments:
.... uh oh....
and yet another reason for Ken not to grow his hair long...
And Jenn, I feel for you...I truly do. Have you made an appt w/ your hairdresser to correct the 5 year old haircut?
Actually, I can't get past reason number one: psychotic wives with prunish shears.
Vicky - Who are you kidding? Ken would NEVER use a brush while blowdrying his hair. He'd be safe with long hair...maybe.
Makes me feel better that the only brushing my hair gets is by my fingers in the shower. I cut my hair once when I was about 10. I wore a hat the entire summer, terrified what my mother would do if she found out.
Oh boy-----what have I told you over and over about cutting your own hair. I would have called 922 (thats the emergency number for hair) and/or gone to work with the brush. Who knows, someone might have been able to help you, once they stopped laughing.
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