Confession

I cheated. Me. After a 7-year relationship, I cheated on my hairdresser. In a moment of weakness, I let someone else go where no one else has gone since before I was a mother. So, on Saturday, with my tail between my legs and my ears turning all sorts of red with embarrassment, I confessed my sin to Trish. In an otherwise freezing hair studio, my neck was hot and splotchy~I was guilt ridden (Catholic guilt, baby--it'll get you every time).

I cheated. Ike came between us. I let it happen. I left to escape the madness of no power and crazy kids. I hadn't "fixed" my hair in days--I had been living on instant coffee and potatoes. I wasn't in my right mind. And, then, it happened. My sister came in with a brand new haircut. It was fresh, bouncy, and adorable. Temptation got the best of me.

I cheated. After all we've been through. Trish has seen me through the lowlights, the highlights, births, deaths, and dyeing. Will it ever be the same? Oh, I hope so. Aside from the obvious torture of my eyebrow wax (my penance), she was forgiving and kind. Thank goodness for her understanding. :)