A Girl Walks Into a Salon

Saturday was Joseph's last soccer game.

That sound you heard was me breathing a sigh of relief.

After the game was a pizza party. A pizza party at which the parents were not invited to partake. Which seems weird to me considering it was a pizza party paid for by the parents, but hey, at least I didn't have to make lunch for the kids.

After the kids reached for their second cupcake, I turned to Chad, who is such a rule breaker he was eating pizza, and told him I was heading out. I gave the kids kisses and hugs and started towards home. On the way, I stopped to grab a sandwich at the Subway located three blocks from the Old House. As I walked up to their door, my eyes turned to the shop next door.

The Beehive Salon.

Visions passed before my eyes:

The perfectly manicured soccer moms at Joseph's game.

Their hair straightened, highlighted, held back by big sunglasses.

Their toned bodies encased by yoga pants and tight hoodies.

I looked at my reflection in the window:

Hair pulled back into two pigtails, a headband keeping my crooked bangs out of my face.

A wrinkled flannel shirt over baggy jeans.

My feet warm in a pair of Uggs.

My face free of make up.

I switched directions and walked into the salon. A peppy young woman walked up to me.

"How can I help you?"

"I need someone to make me look 15 years younger, 60 pounds slimmer, and more stylish than Angelina."

"Well, if I could do that, I'd be booked for the next twenty years."

"That's true," I said, grinning. "And you sure as heck wouldn't be working in Paso."

"But I can make your hair look more stylish."

"The bar is set pretty low."

She laughed and led me back to the washing area.

An hour later, I walked out with a sassy new look. Ashley, the peppy blond, is also very smart. As I finished paying, she looked at me and said, "If you don't make an appointment today, you won't be back until after you cut your hair with your sewing scissors again."

"You already know me so well."

"I'm booking you in six weeks. What time works best?

"You're good."

She laughed and handed me her card.

I think I may have just found a new stylist. Three blocks from my old house. Two towns from my new house. That's how I roll.