Saturday, February 27, 2010

I'm with the band... or at least, I want to be.

Jack woke me up at 6:15 this morning to take him to his tournament. Which meant that either he is a very, very mean person or I am a very, very good wife. I'm going to operate on the premise that it was the latter, because I try not to say bad things about my husband on this blog, and there are really no good things to say about a person who wakes you up at 6:15 a.m.

Anyway, unless I wanted to be stranded in the hotel room all day, I had to drop him off so I'd have the car, so there I was, stumbling out of bed at an hour that Jesus would surely find unacceptable and mark into his big book of sins.*

"Good morning!" Jack said cheerily, for he is the rarest kind of freak who is both a night person and a morning person (National Geographic will be doing an 8-page spread on him for April's issue since nobody has ever seen this species of human before).

"Greeeeabjioawwhuoahhmaaaaaa," I replied, and shuffled into the bathroom to find my toothbrush and the pair of jeans I had thrown on the floor the evening before.

And then I saw it.

"Jack," I said groggily, as I looked into the mirror. "My hair. It's crazy."

He burst into laughter, and agreed. "Yes, yes it is."

I stared at it a little while longer, appalled at just how crazy it was, for I am a straight-haired girl and generally the hair I go to bed with is the hair I wake up with. Super-boring.

"We have to take a picture of it and send it to Jessica Latshaw," I said.

Jack, aware that he is married to a loon but still taken aback by the strange request, looked at me quizically.

"Um, why?" he asked.

"Because," I replied "She takes pictures of her awesome bedhead."

Somehow, he understood that completely. I think he also really wants to stay on her good side, since he is convinced that she would be the perfect martial arts student with all her dancing skillz. And for some reason he is also convinced the only reason she has not been learning taekwondo all these years is that he, her teacher, simply lives too far away.

Now, there is absolutely no chance that I could ever match the sheer awesomeness that is Latshaw bedhead, but if I have any hope of joining her Flock, I've got to start somewhere.

So Jack took my picture. And then I remembered that for it to be a truly authentic Latshaw-inspired bedhead picture, it needed to be a webcam picture. So I broke that out instead.




And no, I don't do full-pouty lips, flawless skin and cute kissy faces at 6:15 in the morning like she does. At 6:15, I look more like this:




Also, I can't harmonize anything you throw my way. And you really don't want me to try.

*No, Jesus doesn't keep a big book of sins.
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