Reading romance novels, I often come across the paragraph where the hero buries his nose in the heroine’s hair, and loves doing so. Alas! That was not quite the case with us. 😢 . By us I mean my late husband, and I. He would rudely say, “Cover your hair, it tickles my nose, and I can’t sleep.” It would effectively kill any romantic thoughts I would be having towards him.
I was quite young. I disappointedly used to wonder that something must be wrong with the hair I had upon my head. I was dejected. It’s recently I’m able to see his view point. My hair has been falling intermittently. Sometimes they land upon my face, or arm. They tickles the skin annoyingly. No wonder my poor husband felt irritated with my hair.
And another thing I have realized is that whatever the romance writers write is never the truth.
This day is harried for me. I have yet to gather my things, and pack. My flight leaves in the evening, and I will be reaching Houston at midnight Insha’Allah.
Made pancakes for the children. I have just finished feeding M5 –coaxing her to eat her pancake, and fruit. I was putting forkfuls into her mouth, and at the same time I was ineffectually brushing her hair.
There were unidentified flakes in her hair. I kept alternating between a comb, and brush to take out the flakes adorning her hair. How she got them — it was a mystery.
This was certainly disastrous.
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
When I came to live with my son, and family, I wanted a separate bathroom. I was willing to pay for it to be built. They had other ideas. They want to move to a different locality, because of a possible re-zoning of their youngest son’s school.
I share a bathroom with H, and Sn (the two eldest ones). At present my most hated job is picking their hair. It wouldn’t have been bad, if they cleaned after themselves. They don’t, and I am left to clean the debris of their aftermath. The other day the sink gave up. My son got out his snake cleaner, and did the job. It took better part of a day.
Before going to bed when I used the bathroom, new hair were lying in place. I picked the lot with a tissue. But the water refused to go down. Giving up, I sat at the edge of the bathtub, and washed my face. The outcome was, I splashed more water on my clothes than on my face.
Whenever I visit my son and his family, I feel I am in Seventh Heaven. The days pass so quickly. There are lots of changes in my grand sons. They are growing up. The elder two, specially the older one is meta morphing into a prickly creature. Both of them are sporting bushy unkept hairdos. To tell you the truth, in my heart I was pretty much aghast, but when their friends visited they looked the same with their hair. I breathed a sigh of relief that my grandsons are not the odd ones out.
The youngest one, IB is still his sweet, sunny self. He loves to perform his magic tricks. Yesterday he put a coin in my hand. Before closing my hand over the coin, he as quickly removed it, and touched my ear. He showed it to me, rather triumphantly, and told me, “See, I got it out of your ear.” I tried to look suitably impressed.
My hair is in pretty bad shape nowadays. I am waiting for Che, till I reach her to get a good hair cut. She is still far away. Personally, I prefer a basic hair cut which does not require any maintenance. Just a flick of a comb and you are done with it. I hate spending time in front of a mirror styling hair.
Most of the time I am living in Peshawar, Pakistan. For the past fifteen years, I used to go to Sophie for a hair cut. I would go to her after three months or so and my hair would still look nice. She sort of realized that I went to her after a longer period. She started giving me a hair cut which lasted only twenty days or so. I would start looking like a moron at the end of the said period. Another downside to it was that my hair got shorter and shorter. To look good I had to visit her.
Then one day she went too far with my hair. There are no words to describe it. In plain words, it was just terrible. I was horrified when I looked into the mirror. To this day, I have not gone back to her. I hid from my husband beneath a cap for two months. I was lucky that it was exceptionally cold that winter, otherwise my husband would have cracked a multitude of jokes at my expense.
I made a cartoon on my previous blog and I was worried. You will ask why? Simply because my sister is a stickler for truth. She will be at you like a dog gnaws at a bone, if she notices a slight discrepancy in what you say or do.
That cartoon was based on a friend, who visited after a gap of eight years.
My sister and I discovered each other later in life. She was away living with grandma. When she joined us (father and the other siblings) Baba (our father) passed away. We were together at uncle’s house, but I was busy with exams and got married soon after I finished.
We took baby steps towards each other in the ensuing years. I can say that now we are friends. We got to know each other. Unlike me, she dresses beautifully. She looks immaculate even after a twenty-four hours long flight. I wonder how she does it? In comparison, I look like a scarecrow. She cooks like a dream. Her house remains tip top. Sadly, she suffers from Parkinson’s disease, and is heroically battling it.
Usually my evenings are spent watching those shows which I like. I am in luck when there is no load shedding of electricity which is a common occurrence here.
I do my cooking at this time. Cooking bores me now and it’s repetitive, so while I do my cooking I watch my favorite TV shows if they are on. My pet dislikes are ads. I know they are a necessity. If there weren’t any ads the shows won’t run. I have noticed whenever a show is popular more ads are there.
I wish the ad people would come out with more interesting ads so that we don’t get bored with them. I think they should change them frequently too, like the coke ads. Some are so bad you dread watching them. I wish they come out with more innovative ideas so that (unfortunately) when I have to watch them I won’t take out huge chunks of hair from my already thinning patch in despair.
There is the milk ad. You are told if you add it to your tea it will be marvelous. You are bound to say, “What is wrong with that?” The thing which jars me is their prancing about. If they had done it imaginatively it wouldn’t look so cheap. Then there is the cream ad. A lovely lady with a smile tells you to use it. Somehow I doubt that lady using it on her arms and legs. If we did I am sure most of us will start resembling gorillas, because the non-existing hair will also come out for a breath.
Now the meat cubes ad! This one tells you to add it to your veggies. The cubes will make you feel you are having meat. What a choice! While the cost of meat is spiraling up and the currency is going down (thanks to our govt.) the cubes will do the trick and that at a steep price too.
Next in line is the cellular ad. You are told to spend a lot of bucks every day to get a shiny new car. It is your money which is being spent, not theirs. If they had such big hearts they would have given you a lower price of their phone package instead of minting you for money. They lure you with the tune that the more you spend; you will have a better chance of winning.
The one I like is where the sale person has a drink and he dances to get the escalator moving. To come back to my original bone of contention, I hate it when I am bored to death and would like to see a movie, there are so many ads linked to it I end up not seeing it. They waste your time. You start feeling sleepy and to keep awake you start munching this and that. Normally I give up and go to sleep.
Being starved for entertainment we are forced to watch such ads. My escape route is either to switch off or surf while the program takes a break.