A Sneak Peak into My Family Conversations: The Hair

It used to be a common occurence, where my mother starts griping about finding strands of hair on her spotless, grimeless, shiny floor. Usually, or rather 99% of the time, said offending hair would be at least a foot long, fallen so gracefully from...well, grace. It isn't often you find hair the length like mine was.

Today, my mother found hair on the floor again, just next to the display cabinets. Gripe, gripe, complain.

"Who's hair is this on the floor?!"

Everyone keeps silent, continuing with our own tasks, pretending we didn't hear. But me? I've been scolded too often for shedding like a cat! It was never my intention for my hair to drop all over the place. It just does. So, I just have to defend myself.

"It's yours." The female variety has developed the bad habit of patting their hair, etc so it it only natural their hair should fall off easier.

"It's curly."

"Yours is the only permed head in this house."

"...and short!"

How can anyone resist such an opening line? "Oh, Daddy must've been scratching."

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My router's still dead. I'm now sneakily going online with my brother's computer. Let's hope I manage to remember how to remove evidence.

Ah, no big news. Really. I find everything a horrendous waste of time. Nothing lasts forever.

But I do have this headache...