My daughter has possibly some of the most beautiful hair on the face of the planet. She always has had. It is thick, long, curly and is a coffee with cream color sporting beautiful natural golden highlights. The problem with hair like this is that people want to touch it...without asking first! The other problem is that Kelyn HATES for anyone to touch her hair or head. When she was small and people would reach out to touch her beautiful hair before I could stop them, she would slap hands away forcefully. I would demur and offer an apology and she would glare between the offender and me. I always told her that she should be flattered that people thought her hair was beautiful and their touching it was not meant to be offensive. Kelyn never agreed.
I held on to that belief until last Sunday. Now, Kelyn, I understand and know that I owe YOU an apology! Oops! Last Sunday, as I stood pondering the produce at the local store, trying to determine what was organically raised and how I would incorporate it into recipes and meals for the week, it happened. I was concentrating on the task at hand when I suddenly felt hands in my hair! Hands, mind you, as in multiple, NOT singular. Startled, I jumped a bit and spun around quickly. There stood two women looking as if I had just lost my mind. They informed me that they were hairdressers and that my hair was "just gorgeous!" They furthur explained that they had just wanted to see exactly how my haircut was "done." They asked where it had been done, oohed and ahhed over how silky and thick it looked and felt, and asked if I could please turn back around so they could finish figuring out the cut. I have had many compliments on my new style, cut, and color. It is a drastic change from the old cut and has completely changed my appearance. I have also had many people ask to feel of my hair or touch it. What I had not had yet was someone, or in this case two someones, come up and maul my hair and head without asking first! Still a bit stunned and dazed, I did as requested and they finished touching and looking and figuring out how to accomplish the cut. When they were finished, they simply said, "We're done, now." No apology for not asking. No thank you for letting them finish. Just chatter as they walked away. It had scared me a bit and then made me feel a little creepy. I immediately called my hairdresser and told her the story and told her that we would need to rethink the hair because I could not have strange people touching my head randomly. She giggled...ALOT!! I came home and told Kelyn the story. She simply said, "Karma, mother, karma." I guess I was owed that moment by the universe for all of the times I had told Kelyn not to make such a big deal over someone just touching her hair.
So...to my daughter, Kelyn, I really am sorry and get it now. To the offending hair touchers, that really IS creepy to invade someone's personal space and touch them without asking when they are not looking. To the people in the store who laughed when I jumped and spun, glad I could give you a smile. To karma, is it really necessary to be the witch everyone says you are?! To myself, why do you attract such crazy moments that turn into crazy stories regularly? The answer to the last is that my life is a crazy adventure, thankfully, and never boring!