the hairstylist.
In today’s episode of “shit I can’t make up” I give you an introduction to a kiddo that has actually been with me all school year. I’m calling her Gobo. The GenX crowd that grew up with Fraggle Rock all know who I’m talking about. The rest of you I encourage to ask The Google.
I left town yesterday, on a very tiny jet plane, to visit Princess at NMU. I’m flying back on same said tiny jet plane here shortly. You know, after I walk across the Tarmac to climb up the stairs to board. Told you… very tiny plane. I’ve been sitting in this airport for roughly 5 hours, alone. Why? Well, Princess had class, and I had to check out of my hotel and frankly, sitting here in silence sounded really appealing. The longer I sit here, the longer I feel like accidentally missing my flight.
24 hours. Turns out that it’s true what they say – A LOT can happen in 24 hours. Yesterday, sweet little snowflake child caused a real stir at school trying to get herself some quick cash, (I can’t even go into those details). I got that call about an hour after I landed. Two missed the bus this morning. Not shocking. One, Gobo, seemingly trying to avoid the natural consequence, aka embarrassment, from her actions yesterday at school. Then Gobo earns herself not only an email home from school but a personal call. Fabulous. I could not help but laugh when I was asked to come collect her. “Uhhh, no can do friend. I’m in an airport. Feel free to hold her and put her little fanny on the bus though. Thanks for calling.”
Gobo managed to find herself a seat on the bus. Immediately upon coming home, jumps right into crisis mode and puts on a fabulous show for everyone. The result of this grand production was a large clump of what I now know to be her complete ponytail, cut off and plopped in the hallway. I cannot. Big thanks to Sassy Britches for sending the photo to me in the airport. Photo posted here for your viewing pleasure.
If you see Gobo at school tomorrow, you’ll know it’s her based on her new hairstyle. As I’m not home until evening, she won’t be getting that mess corrected until after school tomorrow. She made a choice and now day two of embarrassing natural consequences is in her immediate future. How many calls am I going to get from school tomorrow?
In just 24 hours, I have again been slapped in the face with the reality that I’m held hostage at home by a handful of girls that are either technically adults or at the very least old enough to be driving a car. Great.
