Flat Iron Christmas
Guess what came in the mail last night, complete with its own snazzy metallic shoebox and sleek carrying case? Ooh its so pretty, and doesn’t fry the crap out of my head like the toaster-like hair straightener I owned in college. Ah Memories of burning hair. Add that to the ever-present aroma of microwave popcorn and sex, and boy oh boy did I love coming home to the dorms.
LB keeps saying “DO MY HAIR! DO MY HAIR!” Poor child. Maybe by the time her senior prom rolls around we can share a bonding flat iron moment. Until then, she might as well belong to Hairclub for Men.
Thank you so much for the amazing present, Ms. Single Santa Mama. The 30 day lapse between winning the award and special delivery only made this whole thing even sweeter. WOO HOO!