It Never Fails

ihand It must be Murphy’s Law or something. Just imagine, for a minute, that for several nights in a row you’ve only managed a few short hours of sleep…due to a sick cranky little one (or two or three). Then imagine that when finally the blessed opportunity to nap presents itself and you’re drifting off to what you hope will be a couple of hours of restorative oblivion, the rest of the world is not very obliging. That’s when the neighborhood dogs start seeing cats behind every tree and in every bush…and your own dogs have to comment on their loud behavior. And suddenly the phone rings over and over with apparent pressing telemarketing business and long lost acquaintances…who apparently have you confused with someone else. It never fails! As a family, we’re pretty quiet and unnoticeable for the most part. It’s not uncommon to go days and weeks with no one calling or coming by. But I can almost count on the above scenario happening every single time I’m beyond exhaustion.

And then there’s the bad hair day thing. The kind of “bad hair” that comes from being sick or exhausted or just feeling lazy and don’t want to get out of your PJs kind of day. It never fails that that would be the time everyone under the sun wants to knock on the door for one reason or another. I’m sure that every salesman and girls scout in the area wonders if I own a hair brush. But you know what…at those times I don’t think I care. I probably should learn to just not answer the door when my appearance reflects my moods and health. That would seem like the most sensible thing to do. But we so rarely get someone knocking at the door, I think I fear it might be something important. Or maybe I should make a sign that I can stick on the door explaining that I’m having a “bad hair” day and request that they only knock if they’re dismembered or delivering a Publisher’s Clearing House prize.

Think it might work?

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badhairday

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