Accident Prone Mother Impales Self in Head
I thought about putting a band-aid (or, if you are British, a plaster) on my head gash because it was such a toss-up as to whether the band-aid or the whelp with open half inch wound combo would be less distracting. I asked my ten year old daughter if I looked okay after I put on my party dress and make-up (She’s used to seeing me in jeans and scant make-up). She gave me an up-and-down look and said, simply: “What happened to your forehead?” It conjured up memories of when my esteemed hair stylist, Brandie, accidentally dropped a curling iron on my forehead the day before my wedding. She was so mortified she refused to let me pay her, but I thanked her for pre disaster-proofing my wedding. It was too mundane to advise forehead gawkers at the Ball that my vent hood attacked me so my husband and I made up an elaborate story about what happened to my head, which I left un-bandaged. Summed up, I started with: “turbulence”. Doesn’t that make me sound glamorous and important rather than pedestrian and coordination-challenged?