Well. The hair stayed. I knew it would for now....but never say never.
I went to my guy, slightly hungover, and he tossed me a brush and said 'oh you'll have to deal with that knotted mess.' WHA?! No! So I told him about the blog and about my thinking it was time to just get rid of the whole thing.
'Yeah. No.' - was his response. 'You want to go back to that bob? Not happening.'
So I said that I was thinking maybe the whole thing.
I got the Mckayla Maroney. Big time.
And he's right of course. It's taken me a long time to grow my hair out from the last time. I'm not quite ready to go there yet.
Instead, we went for this. A little reprieve from the dreadlocked, rats nest. So, until I wash it tomorrow, I can run my fingers all through my hair without fear of finding hidden rodents or lost utensils. I've been doing it non-stop.
We call it the Farrah. And I've decided that with one look Mark can boss me around more than my mother used to. And I listen.