My “always wants to be at school earlier than the other kids” decided that today was not that sort of day. Behind 30 minutes.
When I took off my ball cap from taking her to school (I know I’m not the only one, so don’t judge!), I had reached THAT point. Getting a trim became a necessity in order to preserve not only my sanity, but the safety of all others around me. So I took the chance and got a trim at one of those fast-cut places. It was fast, but I was still behind another 30 minutes.
The aforementioned fast-cut place did a fair job on my hair, but apparently they don’t do styling this early in the morning, so I had to stop at Walgreens for some quick hair gel so I didn’t look like a total dweeb while eating lunch with a friend. Behind another 10 minutes.
Unfortunately, my thrifty gene kicked in and I chose a travel-size gel I’d never used before. Same brand. Different formula. Like the difference between Elmer’s Glue and Superglue different formula. So I’m sitting in my car with my hands plastered together with goop that only a jack hammer or blow torch could separate. I decide to wipe off the layers of goop onto the closest victim in my car: my favorite jacket. Unfortunately, that jacket is fuzzy. Yeah, you know where this is going.
My water bottle must be sacrificed, lest my hands resemble Elmo. Ten minutes later and an entire bottle wasted, I can at least feel my skin enough to take off the rest of the hair gel by using an entire bottle of hand sanitizer. I have the cleanest hands in the metro area. Ok, my morning has been shot, but maybe I can manage a little work before my lunch date. I get out of the car and circle around to the passenger’s side to grab my laptop for a little writing. Then I see it.
Apparently, ostriches can now fly. Because a herd/flock/gaggle has apparently made its way to Pegram. And apparently, these birds ate something that disagreed with their finicky stomachs. The amount of ostrich poo on the passenger’s side of the car was astounding. Impressive. And absolutely gag-inducing.
I am supposed to pick up my friend for lunch, but I would never subject my worst enemy (well, maybe at Redskins fan) to the sight or smell—never mind the feel—of it because it’s all over the car handle. So, I have to stop at a car wash where I spend 20 minutes trying to power-wash the poo from my car. I think it must be the same consistency of the hair gel. I’m sure my friend will buy me lunch for this sacrifice of time.
If you’ve ever had to power-wash poo from your car at close range, then you know what happened. Yep, blow back. I finally got the poo off, but now the right side of my body is soaking wet and smells like a cross between dish detergent and car wax. I hate to be cold and wet, so the next stop was the nearby McDonald’s, where by the way, I saw the black Elvis selling newspapers again.
I commandeered the hand dryer in the bathroom for roughly four hours (or it seemed) until my clothes didn’t feel like I’d been through a car wash.
Guess what time it is? Yep, time to go pick up my friend for lunch.
Hopefully, the morning wasn’t completely wasted…I’m hoping it gave you a little laugh. And a little gratitude that your morning wasn’t as crazy as mine.