I Thought Bald was Beautiful

It was hot today. I was bored. The kids were at their grandparents and Tricia was at work. I worked all day and I was tired.

I hadn’t shaved in over a week. My hair was unruly. I stood in front of the mirror and wondered which one’s Pink. I started to clean myself up. It never stopped.

Now I’m a shiny, happy person. I laugh. I hold hands.

Then the boys came home. At last count Atticus had laughed at me, pointed at me, and mentioned how funny I looked at least twenty times. He was only home and awake for an hour.

Zane did not find it amusing. He ran from me. He hid. He gave me the stink eye.

At one point he ran down the hall, screaming, and returned with a mirror which he put in my lap, and then, unsatisfied with my hesitation, he shoved it in my face. He did not sugarcoat it.

This isn’t the first time I’ve shaved my head, but unless the boys promise to be nice to me it may be the last.

It was hot today. I was bored.

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