This is our most recent church directory picture, taken last month, while my oldest daughter was away at college.
Incidentally, I dutifully and carefully spent hours picking out dresses and fixing everyone’s hair for this picture, but I didn’t let them get dressed until the last 20 or so minutes before we were going to leave to head up to the church building because I knew those pale blue and white dresses were sure to get dirty if they put them on too soon.
So, as I was putting the finishing touches on the last head of hair and the time was getting close, I told everyone to go ahead and get dressed, and I warned them not to go outside, or crawl, or run, or rub up against anything, or even look at anything dirty.
I’m sure you can image the cardiac infarction I nearly suffered when I rounded the corner to get my purse and gather up the kids to make the final check of hair and shoes when I saw the 3 year old casually walking around carrying a full, open can of root beer in one hand and a wad of over-ripe strawberries in the other.
I may have shrieked.
Pigeons in Times Square may have simultaneously taken flight in slow motion.
My husband found me leaning over a mound of wadded up strawberries on the counter, pinching the bridge of my nose, and practicing Lamaze breathing. He admitted that even though the kids aren’t usually allowed to have sodas, he gave the girls a can of root beer to split because he thought that would keep them out of the way while I finished getting ready. He didn’t know why they had the handfuls of strawberries.
“Why are you so tense?” he asked.
I can’t remember what happened after that.
But the point of this post is that I want you to look at the picture. Study it.
Then, mentally add a 19 year old girl into the picture. Make sure that in your mental image her hair is long. And thick.
Now, take note of the hair in the picture. All. The. Hair.
At this point, I would like us all to observe a moment of silence as I utter the single word I have been hoping all these 19+ years of parenting that I would somehow be fortunate enough to never encounter.
That’s right. Let us pray.
We are on Day 2 of treatment, and I believe I have tried everything my trusty Facebook fans have recommended, excepting shaving everyone bald-headed and burning down the house.
Okay, those last two may have been my subconscious blurting those out in my sleep.
I’ll be sure to follow this up with what remedies worked, as soon as we are rid of the little devils.
In the meantime, if you’ll excuse me, I have some more nitpicking to do.
And miles to go before I sleep.