First, to explain the connection. I swear to all that is holy that I was thinking about blogging on the asinine misuse of the word "nazi" in regards to breastfeeding or whatever topic people don't like at the moment. Boom! That very day, she blogs about it.
Then, same day, I doo-doo you not, I blog about not placing bloggers on pedestals and having unattainable expectations of them. Boom! She was just thinking of the same thing.
I should've taken a nap at that point. Instead, I had tempted fate with this:
Me: I need a hair cut.
Husband: I used to cut Beth's hair. She used to get compliments on it from everyone. (Beth, one of his girlfriends in college more than 10 years ago, has thin, straight hair. I have thick, curly hair. I stupidly assumed he'd change course of action for differing circumstances.)
-today, he cut my hair-
Me: Wait, I thought you said you used to do this all the time.
Husband: I may have overstated that a bit...
-I am making an appointment at the salon as I type-
See, Jamie, too, had this experience almost to a T.
And I, too, should've taken it as a bad omen when we couldn't find the scissors, so he broke out his work scissors and proceeded to pick bits of only-dog-knows-what out of them. (It's worth noting that Zen Husband teaches biology. The bits that were in those work scissors could be any number of vile and once-living things.)
(My current likeness.)
Jamie, I need to use the brain tomorrow, k?
