
Well, sadly, my hair is starting to thin, so I've decided to get a new wig. The good news is I like the wig. However, it does look much better on Raquel Welch, doggone her. Doesn't she ever age?
Anyway, I get the thing out of the box, shake it up real good and work with it on my hair. I put my makeup on, and I'm feeling pretty snazzy when I leave the house. Might even say I had a smidgen of pride over my new do.
It's funny how God has a way of helping us with that pride thing.
I go to my daughter's house to show her my new style and we suddenly notice that in the back of my hair, a tag is peeking out--okay, it's not peeking. It's standing at full attention and a huge orchestra is playing, "Turn around, look at me."
Then I meet up with someone I had never met before, a new friend (ovarian cancer survivor), and she's from out of town. I'm wearing the wig. She has her dog with her. The dog is on a leash and somehow gets wrapped around me and she swings the leash over my head, barely missing the wig by centimeters. I could visualize my wig flying through the air and the dog pulverizing it.
Let's face it, I'm not the classy type. Audrey Hepburn can go to Tiffany's for breakfast while I down a burrito at McDonald's. It's my life. And I guess truth be told, I'm okay with that.
Tell me I'm not the only one. Any other brave soul out there care to admit your life isn't always picture perfect? ;-)
Labels: Audrey Hepburn, classy, wig