A hairy situation

So I was blow drying my hair the other day, flippin' my head around like nobody's business when

*slurp, grind, rip, POW!*

and my hair was sucked into the back end of that blow dryer.

Well I yanked that blankety-blank-blanker away from my head, shut it off, and threw it in a bathtub full of water.

Because that little tag told me not to.

Ok, no, I didn't do that, but I wanted to.

Aside from feeling like I had been scalped and betrayed by my beloved blow dryer, savior of frizz, and the acrid smell of burning hair filling the bathroom, not much damage was done. However, it did remind me of a story about my sister which I will now tell without her permission. I'm sure she doesn't mind though, do ya Em'? Its a good one.

Emily, Mom, and I were in the kitchen while Mom was cooking, all of us chatting away and going about our usual kitchen activities (Emily and I sitting while Mom did all the work) and by the way, this was *many years ago. Many many years ago. Before I had even considered turning a quarter of a century. Before I knew what that even meant.

Anyway, Mom was using a hand mixer to create something delicious and Emily, being the curious little one that she was, leaned forward to get a better look. Boop! A chunk of hair fell forward. GRIND! That chunk of hair got sucked into the beaters so fast there was no stopping it.

Have you ever wondered what would happen if your hair or your finger got in the way of the beaters? I don't wonder anymore. That whole chunk of hair just ripped right outta her head. There was no turning off the machine and unwinding her hair from those beaters. Nope, before you knew it, it was already too late.

Poor Emily, she cried of course (wouldn't you?) and rubbed her head for awhile but we couldn't really tell where the hair came from so we figured no harm no foul.

Later that night as we were finishing our dinner Mom stood over Emily and stroked the top of her head, moving her hair around a little bit. "{Gasp} Rog, come look at this." Of course that meant all of us kids had to clamber up and look too. There, right on the top of her head was a bald spot where that hair had come from.

Whoa.

Bummer for Emily. The only thing worse than having a comb-over at age 3 (or so) was the mini mohawk she had to cover as that hair grew back in. {chuckle} Ok, sorry. It's not funny. So, have you had any good hair stories? Did you ever have to cut all your hair off due to a rogue piece of gum? Did you cut your own bangs... when you were 2, or even 22? Anything catch on fire ever? Tell me your hair stories, I like 'em.

*Disclaimer: I was pretty young when this happened and so if I made anything up I'm sorry. This was just how I remembered it, Mom, please correct me if I'm wrong.