Bad Hair Day

Most of us have a bad hair day every once in a while.

Me? I have one every day. It's the main reason I keep my hair cut short. It's fine, thin, and unruly. Cowlicks abound. Where it should be straight, it curls. Where it should curl, it's straight. It is . . . Hair From Hell.

Hair products are my friends. Shampoo, conditioner, root lifter, mousse, hairspray. Yesterday was no exception. I'm all done and grab the hairspray. When I pulled off the cap, the plastic part you push down to make the spray come out, fell off and rolled behind the toilet.

I retrieved it and tried to stick it back on the little nub that protruded from the can. It refused. I had a little talk with it, and pushed harder. Finally, it went on, but refused to spray. I called it names and it laughed at me.

"I'll show you."

I had some other hairspray I didn't much like, so I pulled it out. They must belong to the same union. No spray came out of that one either. I gave up. Life's too short.

But I had to go out. Obviously I was going to the store to buy hairspray. But I had other places to go first. I thought I was OK. It wasn't windy, just a little breeze. I wouldn't be too long, a couple hours, max.

Last stop was for hairspray. The clerk smiled when she took my money. I smiled back. I didn't know she was being mean until I looked in the mirror.

Now with short hair, you'd think the problem wouldn't be too bad. And overall, I don't suppose it was. Just two little spots. One on each side of my head. A little above my ears. I had horns.

Like I said . . .

Hair From Hell.