Archive for April, 2007

The Return Of The Breathe Right

So I guess I don’t have very good aim when throwing things in the trash when I’m half asleep. (Or when I’m fully awake, for that matter…)

I got up right away when my alarm went off, quite pleased that it was Friday. Henry (somehow on our bed again) was all stretched out and ready for his Morning Rubs. He looked really cute so I obliged him.

I was scratching his furry little back when I felt something odd in his fur. It felt like some kind of tape. Joey hadn’t woken up yet (it was 6:30 a.m.!) so the lights were off and it was really dark. I unstuck whatever the sticky substance was and held it up to the light by the window.

“AAAAUGH!” I screamed, fairly quietly.

“Maaabuaaaaahhhhhh…..” said Joey, tossing around in the covers. Henry just looked up at me like, Mom, what’s your problem?

“It’s….it’s….it’s a Breathe Right!” I poked at it. It was all distorted in shape and wadded up–very similar to the one I found in my pants the night before. In fact, it seemed to be the very same one. “I must not have thrown it in the trash like I thought I did.”

Joey rolled around and mumbled some stuff. Poor guy.

Henry and I threw away the Breathe Right for sure this time and went out in the living room where he immediately wanted to play fetch, get scratched, go outside, and eat breakfast all at the same time. (He’s way too high energy.)

And, thus, I hope this chapter in the Breathe Right saga is closed. Seriously.

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Joey Gives Me A Haircut

When I got my “stacked bob” haircut a couple months ago, the stylist left it a little bit long in the back. A sort of “I Can Tell This Is Going To Be A Mullet Tail In A Month” kind of long. I tried to get her to fix it but she didn’t understand. And when I went back for a trim a month ago, she still didn’t understand and cut it the same way.

Sigh. The trials of moving across the country and having to find a new hair stylist.

It has definitely grown into a Mullet Tail. NOT CUTE. The rest of the haircut is just fine…except for my Mullet Tail. I played with it all day long yesterday even trying to figure out if I could cut it off myself in the bathroom with a mirror and some scissors.

I decided not to push my luck.

This morning, however, I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked at the back of my hair in the mirror and made an exectutive decision.

“Joey? Can you come here and cut my hair?”

“What?!” Joey yelped and came into the bathroom dragging his feet. “You want me to do what to your hair?”

“Cut it. See this mullet part?”

“Yessssss….” trailed off Joey.

“I want you to cut that part off.”

“How?” He was not excited about this. “What if I wreck it?”

“You can’t wreck it. Just cut straight across here,” I demonstrated, “And you’ll be fine.”

“OK…fine…” He took the scissors in hand and, slowly, began to snip. I felt hair fall on to my shoulder with a satisfying little fluff.

Moments later, “I think it’s higher on the right side than on the left!” Joey panicked.

“It’s OK, just fix it….” I soothed.

A few seconds of high concentration later and Joey said, “OK, done. How does it look?”

It was perfect. NO MORE MULLET TAIL!

“Sweetie! You did perfect!” I cried.

Joey cleaned the fuzz off my shoulders and walked out of the bathroom, quite pleased with himself indeed. The entire hair cutting venture has been a win-win situation. He feels great that he did awesome cutting my hair and I feel great that I no longer look business in the front and suspicious in the back. (There was no “party” in my Mullet Tail. It just looked suspicious.)

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