Married Since Middle School

Chapter Three: Merida Hair

Yeah....that's my actual sixth grade picture...and my actual hair. Let's not talk about it right now....

[Email: June 15, 2036]

Hey girl, mom here,

Just got home from grocery shopping and I'm procrastinating cooking. Thanks for being my excuse. I guess shopping for food wore me out too much to actually cook the food. Ironic, right?  Maybe your dad will take over and cook....

Speaking of your dad, if he's going to pretend to be Harriet the Spy he should really delete his own emails. Don't tell him I'm on to him though, and I'm not bribing you with 20 bucks either. I pushed your big head out of my womb so you owe me. I'll just delete this section from another email and resend it.

Just to set the record straight, in no way, shape, or form do I resemble a sad sack of Mylar just because you're not here. Try not to get a big head.

I have to hand it to your father though, a lot if what he said about our friendship was pretty accurate, although his description of Stacey was awful. 

Your dad never really got to know her. Like most people, he never looked past her gorgeous hair to realize what an amazing and kind person she was on the inside. (like literally, I hate when everyone always claim that about people who are really just normal. Everyone's got something nice to say at the eulogy.) The truth was that she was actually the "goody two shoes" and I loved her for it. She was a genuinely amazing person and inspired me to be better. (I know, sappy) She almost totally fit the 'friend' description every adult tells you to have, and it wasn't even fake. After high school, she went to a college in some third world country in South America to do missionary work and we fell out of a touch. (I know, right??? It's so hard not to hate someone that good!) I mostly just stalk her on Facebook and Instagram these days. Part of the reason she was so far out of everyone's league was because she was one of the few people who legitimately didn't want to a boyfriend. Actually I don't remember her dating anyone until her senior year of high school...that probably explains the Suma Cum Laude graduation status, come to think of it.

I hate to say it, but your father's description of my hair was nearly spot on, although the flu story could've been omitted. (I hope your bimbo friends have nightmares about my projectile puking...muahahaha) Anywho,my hair was so wild it wasn't even funny. Thanks to the pregnancy hormones from you, and the stress during your teenage years, it's now lanky and graying. So thanks for that -_- ya big jerk.

Actually, fun fact: part of the reason we waited so long to starting trying to get pregnant was out of a fear that his ginger hair, and my curly lion mane, would combine and we'd give birth to the kid from 'Brave.'

Still not sure how you got your aunt's stick straight, brown hair, but I never thought it was fair that you didn't have to deal with the misery of either of our hair. Actually, I've been secretly hoping that Merida pops out of YOUR vajayjay a few years from now, just so you finally 'get it.'

Anyway, back to the hair thing. Stacey said I need to use hair gel, but your grandmother, who I suspect enjoyed this cruel and unusual torture, wouldn't buy it for me. She did, however, buy aloe vera gel.....

Yeah...you can probably already see where this is going. I woke up one morning with my hair slicked back so well I could've preformed in "Greased Lightening" and smelling like a tourist the day after they fell asleep at the beach. The next day, your grandmother finally broke and I purchased my first can of mousse. (it seemed actual gel was still to 'racy', but I was happy.) I also talked her into growing out the horrid bangs she'd given me when I was 8.

She started to bend on a few more rules after that and in my seventh grade year, I got to start wearing more stylish clothes. My "curly bits" as your father called them, also came in at about that time and all of a sudden, I became more popular--among the boys anyway. I think the girls could still smell the insecurity I hid under my mask and Abercrombie & Finch like sharks sniffing out a single drop of blood.

For some reason though, Walter just wasn't swayed and still rejected me at every turn. Perhaps a result of my 'creepy stalking' as you father called it.

While he still turned my knees into Twizzlers, I began to focus more on the other boys who were interested in my 'new look.' Even though I 'dated' each of them, I never really got to know very many of them. Typically the extent of our 'get to know you time' consisted of helping them cheat their way through a class and writing poorly-spelled love notes to each other. (Well, theirs had crappy spelling, remember they were copying off your highly intelligent mother...)

It's too bad you father never actually told the truth about having a crush on me, but honestly that probably would've made it awkward between us. It was nice to have him as a friend, it would've been difficult to think of him otherwise.

Well, I'm having a hard time dragging this out any longer, and your father is continuing to lounge around in the recliner and scratch himself, so it looks like I'm taking my deflated balloon of a self and heading to Little Caesars.

Love you,

Mommy Dearest :)

A/N How do you feel about the GIFS and pictures? I don't normally put them in, but decided to mix things up. Do they add to the story, take away, or are you neutral?