Big Hair

So last Thursday was Mea’s concert, and I have already mentioned that it was a success.  I gave you a couple of observations in regards to what to do or not to do as far as these programs go.  Now let’s talk about a couple of others.

My sister and I have a bad habit of talking about other people.  We are quiet about it, unlike our Mom, who has the loudest whisper in the universe.  I don’t know who taught her to whisper, but my guess is that whoever did may have been touched with a bit of deafness.  She’s loud.

We have always “fought” over who has to sit by our mother, all of this lies in the fact that she is not quiet.  At all.

During Mea’s concert, she was seated on the end, then my Dad (who is a touch deaf) then my sister, then me, then my husband.  This does ensure that my Mom keeps most snarky stage whispers to a minimum.  She typically doesn’t talk smack to our Dad.

Then my sister noticed that one mother.

The one who was seated nearly in front of my mother.

This girl looked like she had stepped out of a late 80’s rock video.  I am pretty sure that she was the groupie that was kicked out of the dressing room, so the much hotter girls could have a chance with the singers from Motley Crue or something.

The one with the ginormous 80’s rock girl hair.  This girls hair was bigger than her entire head.  He bangs were teased about five inches over her forehead.  She had the two-toned hair, platinum blonde on the top, and nearly black on the bottom.  The eye make-up looked like someone from a MAC counter was playing a vicious joke on her.  Her lipstick was lined far outside her lips and was neon pink.  Her poor little daughter.

My sister nudged me first.

Then just a minute later my husband noticed her, and nudged me too.

I felt like I was sitting next to my Mom, only worse.  These two were relentless.

We had gotten through the show, everyone headed their separate ways, Mea and her Dad off for ice cream, my sister off to pick up my nieces, my Mom back to work, and my Dad off to home.

I got back to the office.

Within the first five minutes of getting there, the groupie and her daughter walked in.  I was the only one available, so I was the chosen one to help her.

Awkward.

Thank goodness it was a short interaction.

When she was gone, one of my employees made a comment about the make-up and hair, and fur-covered purse, how the girls waist was smaller than that of her five-year-old daughter’s.  Somehow my sister and husband missed these observations.  Thank God.

I snorted.

I giggled.

Then I promptly called my sister and let her know about the amazing coincidence of what had just happened.

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2 Comments on “Big Hair”

  1. Jen says:

    Note to self: stop teasing my bangs and ditch the fur-covered purse.

  2. Libby says:

    Are you sure she wasn’t just carrying roadkill?

    And I wouldn’t have been able to keep a straight face.


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