Narcissism

I overheard the kids playing in the living room the other day. Something to do with arranging blankets and making a tent. At one point, Anna complained about her hair getting messed up, and Justin responded with, "That's o.k., you're a mommy."

I thought this was strange at first, but then figured it had to do with the general state of my hair. I try to keep it combed and presentable, but my standards aren't high. I have untagged myself in Facebook photos where it looked particularly unkempt.

My hair looked really good for three days in August. I got it cut while we were in Bogotà, and some magical combination of hair product and the fifteen minute blow dry turned it into what Justin referred to as a helmet. But it was a lovely, sleek, shiny helmet.

The following photo will be my Facebook profile picture forever. It was taken the day of the cut.

Sideview. Anna's do is from the same place. The ribbon was braided into her hair.

Day two and it was still looking good as we went to a children's festival.

Day three, still couldn't bring myself to wash it and bring it all to an end.

Alas, I finally washed it. For a few weeks I tried to blow dry and style it. But my arm gets tired of holding up the blow dryer. And I'll just have to wash it again and start over in a few days.

Oh, and I realized that Justin said, mummy, not mommy. They were pretending that Anna was an Egyptian mummy. So the hair didn't matter as I guess it just mostly disintegrates over the millenia anyway.