Abigail and I have discovered the world of hair blogs. (Nothing like hair bands, for the record.) “Okay!” I said, after we’d scrolled through one a while. “Go get the bobby pins! Let’s do this!”

“Hmmm,” she said, her ten-year-old tact getting a workout, “How about we make tomorrow be hair day instead? Or, um, we could do YOUR hair!”

In the grand tradition of showing you photos of the back of my head.

I can’t understand how mine doesn’t look as fantastic as the ones done by professional hairstylists and photographed by professional photographers.
 

Hello there, bathroom wall behind me. Yes indeed, one of those was a free print and the other is a knockoff. Both in Ikea frames. Why do you ask?

Every once in a while I look around myself (today: at a tray of water with assorted test items floating in it; at a stack of freshly laundered pillows; at discarded wood glue; at hair cutting scissors; at the remains of lunch on the table; at my computer screen, open and waiting) and I think: the person who invented the word multitasking? Did not have this in mind.