Over the Memorial Day Weekend I managed to incur the husband’s wrath (generally a rare occurrence). For many months I’d let my hair grow out, unmolested, for two reasons: a) we’re pretty broke and b) so that I could do something fun with it when the time came. I decided that time was now, and booked myself an appointment at the nearest Aveda training salon. But it wasn’t that simple. When I described what I wanted to do with my hair I was asked to come in for a consultation beforehand. Which I did. I was told it should take about three hours on Saturday. I relayed this to the husband, who was incredulous. I explained that these things take time. So the big day arrived, though the husband had forgotten about it. My visit to the salon required him to stay awake for a bit, when he would have otherwise been sleeping, to watch the little man. I headed in at 10am. I didn’t depart until nearly 4:30pm. In between I read a book, was subjected to the worst in satellite radio, did some eavesdropping on several truly inane coversations, and every five minutes or so was told “it should just be another five minutes”. The problem being that my hair is too tough for Aveda’s weakass bleach. Moxie Salon might have been a better choice…though their bleach burns, it does do the trick. Eventually I made my way home, weak with hunger, and worried about how the husband would react. With one outburst and a dirty look he went into the bedroom, slammed the door, and didn’t come out for sixteen hours. Guess he really needed to catch up on his sleep.
Sunday we fared a bit better. The little man and I split our time between lazing about and errand-running. At one point the gloomy, rainy weather broke. Briefly. We headed into the backyard for a bit, but with all the rain we’ve had it was a) way too damp and b) out of control. The un-mowed yard has been taken over by insanely large weeds, wildflowers and some primordial looking plants, with leaves the size of an elephant’s ear. Instead I grabbed the guys and we raced to the nearby playground. True, it was damp there as well, but the grass had been trimmed more recently…such that I didn’t have to worry about losing my child to tangled undergrowth. We enjoyed our visit, but not a half hour into it the winds picked up and the storm clouds rolled back in, further depriving our pasty white skin of the sun’s rays.
Monday was soggy. Our planned Memorial Day BBQ became more of a gathering, with all of our guests crammed indoors. Upon seeing my hair more than one person thought I was wearing some sort of faux fur collar. Gee, thanks. It was probably best that not all of the invitees turned up, because we had barely enough seating…with adults hunkered down on little tykes chairs. But we still had a good time, serving up veggie burgers and tofurky sausages with all the fixings, baked beans, potato salad, chips and dip, and three different kinds of cookies. After gorging ourselves, a small contingency managed to stay awake for the fireworks. Alas, the little man was not among us. The husband stayed home to keep watch over him while the rest of us headed to the nearby park. We had a good view from up on the bluff, of “Minnesota’s largest fireworks display”, but it didn’t seem as impressive as last year’s. The pacing was odd, and about eight times we were tricked into thinking we were seeing the finale…only to have it peter out, and start all over again.
Tuesday felt like a Monday. I remembered to say “Rabbit, Rabbit” upon waking, tired though I was (no matter what time I go to bed I am unable to sleep past 5:59am). I could use the luck, as we have an especially busy month ahead of us. Tomorrow night the husband and I are going out…together…to The Decemberists show. David Sedaris will also be discussing his new book (which would make an excellent birthday gift - hint hint). Though that event is happening near the 400 Bar, I doubt I’ll be able to convince the husband to swing by before the show. The rest of the month will see us attending various graduation and birthday parties (one of them my own, but the day belongs to my Dad…who will be turning 60 on our shared birthday). T-Ball practice begins for the little man. And hopefully summer will begin in earnest.
