There are times when my job has an adverse... dare I say devastating... impact on my family. That time was at 6:12 this morning.
"Ty... I have to leave, honey. I need to be at work by 7 today."
His eyes shoot open. "What??? You're leaving right now?"
"Yes. I have a noon deadline so I've got to get a jump on things."
"Why didn't you tell me last night?? Who's going to do my hair???"
Hm... the Follicular Ecosystem is endangered. Definitely a crisis.
In an effort to avoid future catastrophies like this one, the options are:
1. Mom quits her job, which guarantees her presence at RIDICULOUS o'clock in the morning for any and all teenage grooming emergencies.
2. Someone needs to learn how to use the flat iron by themselves.
I'm thinking Option #2 is the ticket.