Hungry Hungry Headband

While trying to be fashionable and hide the fact that it’s been a while since my last haircut and my ‘do is starting to resemble a shag carpet, I have added headbands into my accessory rotation. I bought one cute one that’s brown and has a little knot on it and is whimsical, or something. I don’t know. It’s almost 10 at night as I’m writing this and I suck at adjectives sometimes.

I also bought just a run of the mill brown headband with adjustable by-your-ear thingies, because I don’t know about you but when those things don’t bend they hurt like a motherfucker.

One signature trait of headbands are those little teeth they have that makes them stay in your hair. Or something.

Anyway, the other day I dropped Nellie off at daycare. Every morning, the first thing she must do is wash her hands.

I swear, all of this eventually has to do with headbands.

She insists that I go to the bathroom with her and watch her wash her hands. So in I go, because she is my dictator. After she finished washing, she ran out of the room to play with a toy. I bent down to beg my overlord for a goodbye hug and kiss. She allowed me to kiss her on the side of her nose, which I thought was pretty generous. She  turned away to her toys, so I stood up from my crouching position and —

CRACK!

My head hit the top of a loft that they have in her classroom for the kids to rappel from   throw each other off of   play in and explore. I stumbled a bit from the force of the blow and shook my head while biting my tongue so not to spew forth a couple of MOTHER FUCKING SHIT EATERS in front of my daughter’s teachers. I found my way out to my car, gingerly feeling my scalp and fully expecting to pull back a hand covered in blood and sinew and was ready to drive myself to the hospital (no, I’m not dramatic, why the fuck would you ask me that?).

I found no blood so I carried on with my day. It wasn’t until later on that I was scratching my head when my fingers grazed the sore spot from whacking myself senseless on a toddler loft. It felt crusty but also kind of peculiar, so I headed to a mirror where I saw this:

The teethmarks + important brainthings happening in my thinker

Remember those headband teeth I was talking about earlier? When I hit my head, the teeth DUG INTO MY MOTHERFUCKING SCALP. See those dots? Those are from my headband’s hungry little stabbing teeth of misery and pain. I’ve been branded by Goody. My scalp belongs to them forever. I think they’ve actually got some kind of tracking device implanted in my brain now, and I will probably end up being forced to compete in the Hunger Games. Which sucks, because I have zero survival instincts and I’m fat and can’t run.

So the moral of the story is: don’t wear headbands with teeth, because you never know when you will be a fucking dumbass and whack your head on something that you knew was there to begin with but weren’t thinking about, because all you could think about was getting to Starbucks for a pumpkin spice latte before you were late for work. And also, do cardio regularly because, you know. The Hunger Games and zombies.

Comments

  1. O U C H !!!! but still lol
    Veronica recently posted..Nurture Photography Fall Photo Challenge: Green.

  2. OMG, I just laughed so hard! Sorry you hurt your head, but I really needed the laugh this morning. Hope your bite marks heal soon!

  3. So what you’re saying is that your headband is a zombie?
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  4. So damn funny! If it makes you feel better, I hit my head on the ceiling in my van while wearing a BumpIt. It hurt like a mother!!!!! Totally feel your pain!
    Kristi {at} Live and Love Out Loud recently posted..Green/Journey {Nurture Photography – Fall}

  5. I know this EXACT FEELING far too well. My head hurts just thinking about it.
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