This is a quick and silly follow-up to an earlier post, about the desperate measures we resort to when the chips are down. In our last episode, Wonder Woman had just discovered she could wield magic markers with incredible ease, skillfully covering her overgrown roots between salon visits, and making horrible carpet stains disappear with a flick of the wrist. But while the carpet remains presentable, after one shampooing the roots return, so at last she visits her faithful ally, Letitia the Hairdresser.
I finally got in to have my hair colored. This time by a certified professional, who does not use “permanent” markers. Hooray! But Letitia was running late. She always runs late. As do I. (A reputation I try desperately to live down.) No love lost. Except that this time she was running really, really late...and I happened to have my nine-year-old son along. (Because school's out, and, um, it seemed like a good idea at the time.) We waited nearly an hour while she finished up the woman ahead of us. (Still cool — gave us a chance to break for lunch.)
Now, I’m sure this has nothing to do with my patience level, but once she got started, it seemed to be taking FOR.EV.ER. (I even fell asleep under the hair dryer while it was processing.) Suddenly, as I began to awaken to reality, I noticed the time. 3:15. (We'd been there since 12:15.) And Mr. Cool had to be home at 3:30 for a tennis tournament. (Remember that reputation for running late?)
Never you fear -- Supermom to the Rescue! I checked with Letitia, then raced out the door with MY BLACK PLASTIC CAPE haphazardly flapping behind me, and wet, slimy hair-color goo tucked under a CLEAR PLASTIC SHOWER CAP. I also donned my sunglasses -- can't go dashing about town like a salon-bound superhero without a MASK! (As if that's really going to disguise my secret identity....)
So I'm dashing across town in my clever disguise, and I find myself suddenly paying rapt attention to silly things like stop signs and speed limits, with visions of being pulled over and sent directly to the state mental hospital! I pray I don't see anyone I know, and find myself increasingly grateful for semi-tinted windows in my mom-mobile. As I continue to fly across town disguised as Wonder-(what’s-wrong-with-this)-Woman, another nightmare crosses my mind...What if we got in an accident, and instead of taking me to the emergency room they check me straight into the psychiatric ward?! MUST utilize defensive driving skills like never before! *cue maniacal laugh*
It reminds me of my favorite Batman episode, where Batman and Robin are traipsing through the public library in full Bat regalia, and Batman says, “Walk slowly Robin, so as not to be conspicuous.” HELLO! Yeah, well, “Drive slowly, Salon-Cape Woman, so as not to be conspicuous....” Holy warped logic, Batman!
Somehow Wonder Woman and her incredible driving skills kept all the villains and criminals and gawking onlookers at bay. Nothing disastrous happened, and she got Mr. Cool safely to the tennis courts on the dot of 3:30, without compromising her secret identity. (Read: not running into a single person I knew or even recognized, thank heaven!)
Then I raced back to the salon, and ran inside, hair squishing, cape flapping. One whoosh in the sink and flick of the dryer, and presto-change-o! I was back to me (only with better-looking hair). It was an exciting flight as a superhero, but I think I'll stick to my secret identity as a mom and continue saving the world one carpool at a time — minus the cute cape.
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