So I got a haircut. I always know it's going to be quite the day at school when I do. See, I teach elementary school. Grades K - 6, and I see the whole school over a two-day period. So I knew last week would be one of those endurance weeks where I have to answer the obvious question of "Did you cut your hair?" like a billion times. With a smile.
Add to that this one: "Did you dye your hair?"
Yes, kiddies. Yes, I did.
So I bought copious amounts of Dove dark and braced myself for the onslaught of obvious questions. Through it all, there were some pretty darn funny looks, staring, double-takes, and yes, even laughing. On Wednesday, I channeled a chicken and most of my hair on top stuck straight up in one of those things-that-chickens-have-that-no-one-knows-what-they're-called.
I also got a lot of funny comments:
1. From a fifth grader (yes, I'm smarter than they are): "It's weird...but I like it."
2. From a third grader: "Is that a wig?"
3. From a fifth grader: "You look like a rockstar." (If only they knew...)
4. From a kindergartener: "You look like my mom."
5. From a sixth grader: "Bok, bok, bok, b-gok!"
And last, but not least. From my dear hubby (DH).
DH: "I really like this style, babe. It's way better than your last one."
Me: "The last one was a stepping stone to this one."
DH: "That was one ugly stone."
I told you I could barely go out in public. Apparently I wasn't the only one who thought so. *snarf*