I hate you.
(Disclaimer: this is NOT in reference to the blog, Baby Bangs, which I actually love. And
So, what was I saying? Oh yes. Baby bangs, you're awful. Why do you insist upon torturing new moms with random hairs that stick STRAIGHT OUT of our heads? Like, at a 45-degree angle? Right where our hair parts....I mean, that's just unnecessary.
And for that matter, why are you still sticking around sixteen months after I had a baby?!?! I mean, a few months, I can deal with. No one feels pretty right after having a baby (and if you do, there may be something wrong with you, and we cannot be friends). What's one more thing? I mean, add it to the hemorrhoids, cankles, and spare tire around the middle. I can take it.
But it's been a year and a half! PLEASE. GO AWAY.
My flatiron can't even tame you, and at 400 degrees of straightening power, that's really saying something.
(And maybe I should examine why I think it's okay to burn my hair at 400 degrees on the regular.)
(And while I'm at it, I should examine why I think it's okay to say things like "on the regular." I'm not Usher. Or Justin Bieber.)
So, while I appreciate you trying to keep me humble by making me look crazy all the time, I do not need your help. I promise.
I've got more than enough crazy to go around.