Ever since my father died, mom’s been obsessing about her own mortality. So, every time we make the haul over there to see her, she trots out old picture albums. It’s pretty cool to see pics of her and dad from the ’50s. What’s not so cool is to see pics of myself as a toddler. Mom dressed me funny, and she did my hair in a ponytail right smack on top of my head. Her excuse was “that’s the way it grew.” My hair is still baby-fine — it always has been — but that was funny. Told mom “Brylcreem. A little dab’ll do ya.” She totally got the joke.
The best part is that I can’t get my hair to fluff up like that anymore, and haven’t been able to since I was in kindergaden. The ’80s were so unkind to me, when fluffy hair was fashionable. OTOH, my hair is only going gray in a few places, and by all rights, it should have gone gray a decade ago. I still want Mary’s hair, because it’s gorgeous, but I’m okay with mine.
As for UPS, I ordered three things online, and two of them were supposed to be delivered “Sure Post,” which means UPS delivers to your local post office, then they deliver it. This time around, since UPS had to deliver something anyway, they elected to drop off the other two in my driveway, instead of dropping them off at the p.o., which would have taken another day to get here. YAY, UPS!!11!!eleventy.