I told J that I couldn't live like this. I feel frazzled. Nothing is straight. I am going to need medication if we can't sort it out soon. I have to order a flat iron STAT.
I tell him that I will use my birthday morning, that this is the Master of the Universe's way of telling me that I should not buy an IPOD. But I cannot have this poofy not even straight hair.
He says honey no, don't use your birthday money. This is a need.
Anyone who wonders why he is the pick of the litter just re-read that. A fancy pants flat iron is a NEED.
Just when I think I couldn't love him more.
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