Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Mullet Man

Yesterday found me rummaging around the kitchen, slowly getting ready to prepare dinner. I was kneeling on the floor digging through a cupboard, when from behind me I feel a light brush on the back of my head, and then another. I quickly turned around and found my dad standing there with a dopey smile pasted on his face and his "horse brush" in hand, as I like to call it. (It's a piece of wood with black bristles.) By the look on his face I knew he was up to no good. I scrunched up my face and asked him WHAT he was doing. He then told me all innocent like that he "just wanted to brush my hair." Mmm-hmm, not buying it. Number One-you do NOT brush my curly hair in the middle of the day, and Number Two-you do NOT use the horse brush on it as it will leave it as an unruly, frizzy mess. You don't mess with curly hair. He knows I don't like his brush and I think that was his motivation right there. As he came in for another stroke of the head, I ducked out of the way and flung my arm his way. (Unfortunately, this type of childish behavior between my dad and I is not so uncommon. We constantly tease and dish out the orneriness to one another.)

So as we're both grinning like fools, trying to guess the others next move, he pastes on a serious face and says, "Just let me brush the back of your head, it'll be all nice and straight. I'll give you a mullet so you're boyfriend will recognize you." Pahhhhh! In my shock of what he'd just said, all I could throw out at him was a "what did you just say?!" We might be visiting a smaller town, with a few rednecks running around, but I definitely have NO connections here.

I then kicked him out of my kitchen.

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