I have been dealing with a lot of frustration with my appearance lately. And a lot of that frustration is directed towards my hair. I enjoy the ease of a short style, but I am pretty sure the last person to cut it gave me the "Justin Bieber" special.
Anyway, yesterday we were getting ready for church and I kept fussing with my hair trying to get it to lay right. Finally, in total exasperation, I said, "Oh I don't know. Maybe it's just time to start growing it out again."
Brian popped his head into the bedroom and said, a little too enthusiastically, "That gets my vote!" Then he quickly followed up with, "Not that I don't like your hair now, because I think it looks really good."
Um, yeah right. That was believable. I know he wishes I would grow my hair out really long again, but I am just not a long hair kind of girl. As much as I would like to be, my hair just won't cooperate. I guess that will just have to be one of the things he'll have to wait until the next life for, along with no stretch marks and breasts that haven't migrated south for the winter. Good thing I know he loves me for all of me, otherwise a girl could develop a complex...