Click, click…click, click…


My hair blow dryer just died.

Many of you may be familiar with this “in the grand scheme of things not a big deal” disaster. I love my hair blow dryer. And no, “love” is not too strong a word. I truly, deeply love it. Have you ever blow dried half your hair, had it go ka-put, and then had to go out looking like some sort of split-person circus act? Only a piping hot stream of electrified air and a good brush can fix such a calamity. And now my hot air is gone. Gone, gone, gone….(sniff.)

Oh why, oh why did I have to cut bangs!!

When I was a teenager with long, flowing, all-one-length Pocahontas hair, I never understood why everyone was babbling on and on about “bad hair days.” This catchy phrase was slapped all over t-shirts, caps, and bumper stickers, and I thought, “Aside from a really bad cut at the salon, how could it be physically possible for the same hair to look good one day and bad the next? Doesn’t everyone just shower before bed, sleep on wet hair, run a brush through it in the morning and go?

Then I got older. And then I cut bangs.

Now I need my hair blow dryer. I need it. And my flat iron. And some product. (Oh, what a tangle web I’ve weaved.)

Omit any of the above from my new banged up hair trifecta and I need the bumper sticker.

I get it now. Berets, baseball caps and bandanas are more than just fashion statements or a ways for celebs to go incognito. They are the tell-tale signs of the hair blow dryer bereaved.

(Sigh…) She was a good little dryer, she was.

My, she was yar…

Margaret Anderson is a BYU graduate, returned missionary, free-lance writer, and mother of five small children. Read more at