There Was a Little Girl, Who Had a Little Curl......

For those who do not know me in real life, I have dark brown hair that can be either wavy or curly, depending upon the amount of humidity in the air, the wind speed, or how much caffeine I've consumed. (I just can't quit you!) On a good hair day I can achieve ringlets, and all is well with the world.

For years I've battled with my hair. As a 3rd grader I hated the bangs in my eyes, and when my mother would not drop what she was doing and cut them right that very minute, I decided to cut them myself. I cut them so short they didn't really even qualify as "bangs," and walked around with my hand over my forehead for an hour or so hoping my mother would not notice what I'd done.

In high school I tried to grow my short hair out, but short curly hair made me look like gameshow host Bert Convy.














In college, I often had my hair permed, just so the waves would be consistent throughout. By the time I started having children, I gave up and just let it go curly.

I'm content with my curls, and everyone tells me how much they wish they had curly hair, but I never quite believe them. So many of the cute, trendy hairstyles out there now can only be pulled off by women with straight hair. I (not so) secretly envy women with straight, trendy hair.

Last night I went for a haircut and the stylist mentioned that she also had curly hair. I was surprised, as her hair was long and beautiful, but very straight. She explained that she flat-ironed her hair. She demonstrated on a small section of my hair, and within seconds the hair was smooth and straight, without a trace of wave or frizz.

I was astounded. Why have I never heard of this thing called a "flat iron?"

I'm always up for a new look, and we decided that after the cut she'd flat-iron it for me. As she worked, I tried to imagine myself with straight hair. I imagined the boys' surprised looks and M.'s adoring glances when I walked in the door.

Afterwards, while gazing upon the "new" me, I learned that my smooth, smooth hair would not give me a trendy movie-star look. I looked more like Elvira.

















Well, not so much like Elvira. More like Elvira's chubbier, bespectacled sister.

My head looked two sizes too small, and I think I was a couple of inches shorter.

I did enjoy watching M. try to think of something to say that wouldn't land him on the couch that night. He finally managed to say something like, "That's not your best look." Once he realized that I was not thrilled with it either he visibly relaxed.

M. and the boys spent a lot of time running their fingers through my hair because it felt so different. It was kind of like when a boy gets a buzz cut; you just can't help brushing your hand back and forth across the top of his head.

Today it was back to curly, and we're all a bit happier.

While I was searching for Elvira photos, I looked for a famous catchphrase of hers. I couldn't find one, but I did find a quote that made me chuckle:

"And tell them... tell them that when all is said and done, I only ask that people remember me by two simple words. [Stops to think] Any two, as long as they're simple. "