Insane Side Effect of Crazy Hair Day  

Four-year-old wanted some, too!

Four-year-old wanted some, too!

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My Little Pony has nothing on her!

My Little Pony has nothing on her!

Unicorns unite!

Unicorns unite!

Ahh, Crazy Hair Day!  The culmination of Red Ribbon Week, a week dedicated to having fun and learning about not using drugs.  The slogan for the day was “Use Your Head and Don’t Do Drugs.”

I’m not entirely certain how crazy hair and avoiding drugs are connected.  In the ‘80’s the Big Hair bands also seemed to be the drug bands.  In the ‘60’s, counterculture hair seemed to coincide with experimentation with more than just their lovely locks.

That being said, I wanted to be the fun mom and participate.  I even said–as I was ratting, and putting in elastics, and shoving bobby pins where they were never meant to go—“Remember, this is supposed to help you not to do drugs.”  Seven-year-old just gave me a confused look.  Eleven-year-old rolled her eyes at me, an action she has so perfected her eyes may be in permanent amusement park ride mode.

I’m not a hair mom.  Half the time, my youngest doesn’t even get her locks combed.  She has curls and they look mostly good when she gets up.  And if they don’t, I just insist she puts on her helmet as she rides her bike to preschool so I can then claim “helmet hair” is the culprit for her non-do instead of lazy parenting.  But I do occasionally like to flex my hair-do muscles.  Crazy hair day is the perfect time to do that.  If you can’t really get the hair to look the way you want you just claim, “I meant to do that!  It’s that much more crazy!”

So, after the hair was done, I took the girls out on the porch to spray their hair with colors.  Seven-year-old’s wasn’t so bad.  She only needed a little spritz.  But eleven-year-old’s was, well, crazy.  She wanted her hair plastered with color.  And elastics began to break after being coated with hair spray.  So I had to run in to the house, grab more, re-do the pony tail and then spray again since the color had come off on my hands.

All that spraying left me feeling a little, um, lightheaded.   Maybe even–shall we say– high?  Yes, that’s right.  I had just unintentionally huffed spray aerosol as a result of participating in week dedicated to keeping kids off drugs.  They didn’t say anything about the parents, though, right?

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