Danger: Wardrobe Malfunction While Driving

It was one of those strange weeks this past week where I had two earlier morning meetings two days in a row. I know and appreciate how lucky I am to see my two muppets off to school every day without worrying about getting myself ready to get out the door, so Thursday and Friday required a bit more planning on my part.

My bathroom upstairs was prepared first: All makeup was retrieved from Jordan’s bedroom floor and placed back in my makeup bag, along with brushes, combs, my flat iron and my perfume. A few strategic curls and makeup via my personal paint-by-numbers method and I would be ready to head downstairs for phase two.

After waking Jamie, who was surprised to see me with my head ready to walk out the door but still dressed in pajamas, we went downstairs to have breakfast and get him ready for his day.

After sending Jamie on his way, I headed to our first floor powder room: Clothing and accessories selected, briefcase packed, cell-phone charged, grown-up shoes located (translation: heels), all waiting and ready for me to jump into and head out the door. I was out and on my way within five minutes.

Day one and done; a morning that went off without a hitch. Why would I remotely expect day two to go any differently?

Well, because when I woke up Jamie he reached the kitchen table and realized he had forgotten to complete one of his homework sheets.

As Friday morning’s meeting was later than Thursday’s, I had opted to change my schedule and start getting ready while Jamie was eating breakfast. In retrospect a bad idea, but hindsight is 20/20.

Wild bed-head and raccoon-eyed from mascara remnants, I sat with Jamie at the kitchen table, frantically recalculating exactly how quickly I could get out the door and look socially acceptable.

I sped through my morning routine at a breakneck pace, giving up on my hair completely and wrangling the Einstein bush mass into a high ponytail. Forcing the tortoise-shell barrette closed, I took one more quick glance in the mirror and accepted this lovely look would just have to do.

I climbed into the minivan and pulled away from the house, noting that I was almost completely back on schedule. I turned on the radio and intentionally slowed my breathing as I pulled up to the stoplight.

And then I heard it: The undeniable click of my barrette popping open, shooting from the back of my head and ricocheting off the driver’s side window. Simultaneously, my Einstein hair returned, bursting forth against the strain of the plastic that had once held it tamed.

I checked the rear view mirror to assess the damage. WOW. My hair triangulated from my head, going from flat at the top to wild and crazy curls at the bottom. I attempted to force the barrette back into place to no avail. Click, pop. Click, pop. Click, pop.

I pulled in to a parking spot and began to rummage frantically through my briefcase, glove box, under the floor mats. Oh, my country for a rubber band, I thought, bordering on delusion. One final attempt and I jammed the clip closed, hoping it would hold long enough for me to walk into the building and find a rubber band, a piece of string, a pipe cleaner.

With every click of my heels on the pavement, I waited for the slight tremors to reach my head, bursting the barrette and blasting my hair to kingdom come once again.

Ducking into the copy room, I pounced on the first rubber band I found; a sad, overstretched noodle, it would simply have to do. I quickly created a ponytail in the reflection of the copier glass and went about my business. Vanity crisis averted.

Oh yes, did I mention this is the monthly meeting where I serve as the group’s PRESIDENT, sit in FRONT of the room, FACE everyone, and generally lead the Pledge of Allegiance?

Timing is everything … you just have to laugh.