Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Bad hair day Monday - I mean Tuesday . . .The Scraggullet

Between my early mullet years and the infamous Permullet years, my mullet went through a difficult time. These were dark years . . . the Scraggly years, when my hair was too long, too dry, and plagued with split ends. I shall call this era the Scraggullet.

Try as I may, my mullet just looked rough every day. Looking back now, I can see that that it was a tell-tale sign that I had outgrown Johnson's No More Tears and was ready for something a little more heavy duty. Honestly, don't we all outgrow it pretty early on? I mean, it's just a bottle of soap that sucks all the moisture out of your hair, isn't it? Well, I had DEFINITELY outgrown it by the 2nd grade but, alas, we didn't know. And the result was not pretty . . .

I look at this picture and I can actually hear my hair crying out to me, panting "water . . . I need waaaaaaaater . . ." I just want to reach through the picture and rub some leave-in conditioner in that mess to put it out of its misery. It actually hurts me to look at it now. I think the worst thing about it, though, is that I was obviously clueless about how bad it looked. I mean, it's clear I put my hair over my shoulder because I thought it looked cute - why? And why didn't I put it over the other shoulder to hide the stripes on my shirt that don't line up? If only I could do picture day all over again.

Having ridiculously dry, scraggly hair made grooming pretty difficult. Luckily, I had a loving mom who would brush my mullet every morning before school.

Doesn't she look so happy to be there? I remember these early morning brushings fondly - standing there for what seemed like an eternity, the brush ripping through the No More Tears knots (which, ironically, reduced me to tears) and my mom lovingly mumbling under her breath that she was going to "cut this damn hair off." Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah memories . . .

And, speaking of memories . . . how can I talk about my Scraggullet without mentioning the skating rink?

Notice how it's in tip-top shape for my attempt at the reverse skate. I remember skating around the rink, my mullet blowing in the breeze, the dry ends slapping passersby and causing fairly serious retinal injuries. Those were the days.

But the Scraggullet had to come to an end. It's part of the natural evolution of the mullet. It was too long, too dry, and just too darn scraggly. And it wasn't becoming anymore . . .

When your hair looks like that, it's time for a change, my friends. Ooooooooooooor it's time for you to wear ugly striped pants to draw everyone's eyes away from the stringy, dry mess on your head. Either way works really.

But, as we know, I permed that puppy up and Santa only had to bring me some PermaSoft and a pick that Christmas.

And the rest is history.


The Queen of my Domain said...

Totally cracking up!! So many people will "get" this one.....loved the last line!!

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