I’ve blogged about my hair before. Often I think. But here’s the thing, ok. When my hair is done, as in rolled or blow dried or flat ironed, you best believe I am going to do everything in my power to keep it that way for as LONG as humanly possible. ‘Til the natural oils have soaked those strands good and proper and the Baby Powder no longer helps to conceal it. You won’t see me diving head first into a swimming pool if I have just spent an hour working up a sweat whilst pimping my crowning glory.
Now that we have a pool, the husband wants to be frolicking at every chance we get – which is great for him, he is bald. I, on the other hand, need to consider my hair. Sad but true. I do not mind going au natural, not in the least, but when I have applied expensive products, ran up the light bill with all my hair appliances, done my weekly tricep exercise by blowing this bush straight, and then slept with a “doek” in the heat of Summer, please give me a bit more consideration when you think that chasing me around to dump me in the pool is funny. It isn’t, it makes me bloody mad and yes we are going to fight because yes I AM THAT UPTIGHT ABOUT MY HAIR. Funny thing is, when my hair is au natural for too long, he is the first to ask me when I plan to do something with it. The nerve. I like having my hair blowed out occasionally, it gives me a different look and it makes me feel good. I am not pedantic about it, and I do have a “wet look” quite often, but girls with a less-than-straight strand, please help me to explain to a brother that when I’ve just had my hair done, the last thing I want to do is get it wet, hell I won’t even bath my kids for fear of standing in a steamy bathroom for too long which will cause my hair to spring back to its roots. There’s none of that wash-and-wear thing in my house… Brazilian Blow Out or not. It doesn’t take me 10 minutes to “fix” – wet or dry. I spend more time on my hair than I do making a Sunday roast. My sister blow dried my hair twice this week, and she is good. She does it quickly and well. If I could blow dry like she can, then perhaps this wouldn’t be an issue for me. But because I am like an uncoordinated new born giraffe when it comes to doing my hair – flailing limbs and blow brushes being flung across the room in (t)error – its takes me FOREVER. I blame my mother and sister for this because as the youngest daughter, there was always someone on call to do my hair. And now as an adult, I suck at it.
I want to swim, I want to cool off after a long day at the office, I want to let the kids splash and kick without having to hear me scream “WATCH MY HAIR MAN!” I want to have competitions to see who can hold their breath the longest underwater and I want to float on my back without getting a muscle spasm in my neck while trying to float without getting my hair wet – but husband, either I’m going to have to wear a shower cap outdoors or you will have to get used to the wet look until March 2013.