[This post was originally written several months ago. But I finally logged into my website after ignoring it for months and found this draft and it made me laugh. So here it is.]
Yesterday [a few months ago] I asked Mark a dangerous question.
“Does my hair look ok, Mark?”
I’m in this weird in-between stage of having an actual hair style and growing it out. It’s awkward. So I pulled the front sides of my hair back and twisted it into a messy little bun, and used a few bobby pins to keep it in place. There, I thought. A fun little messy half-bun that will cover some of the awkwardness.
Mark’s response, “The sides are ok, but the back looks bad. It looks weird.”
It really wasn’t fair of me. I shouldn’t ask unless I want his honest opinion.
“Why is it weird? What’s so terrible about it?”
“It looks like a little kid did it. It just looks bad.”
“It can’t look that bad.”
“Sheesh, you could sugar coat it a little.”
I proceeded to fume for about 20 minutes while we kept getting ready for church. I ended up going back upstairs right before leaving and speed-straightening my hair so I could get by wearing it down.
By the time we were in the car Mark finally noticed the grump all over my face.
“Wait, you’re mad at me? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“I know that’s not true. Just tell me.”
“I’m fine. I don’t wanna talk about it. Just let it go, Mark.”
“Oh, so there’s an “It” to let go of.”
Fast-forward a few minutes to me finally explaining my frustration.
“I just don’t understand how it could even have been that horrible. Like, it was supposed to look a little messy.”
“It looked bad! I thought you’d want to know!”
“It did not look THAT bad!”
“I was hoping to save you from embarrassment. If I hadn’t said something, other people would have, or would at least be thinking it.”
“Are you serious? People care THAT much about my hair?”
“Look, you just don’t have much practice. It’s not your fault.”
“The only reason you care is cause you’re a design snob!”
“That’s not it. It looked weird, and I thought you would want to know!”
“So basically I just suck.”
“HOW did you even get to that? Just cause you don’t know how to do hair it doesn’t mean you suck!”
Fast-forward past my silent treatment to like 20 mins later when I realized how dumb the whole thing was an apologizing for freaking out.
Moral of the story?
Don’t throw your husband into an inescapable trap. The poor guy.
Also, someone teach me how to do my hair.