Good Hair Day.

"Do you want me to cut your hair?"

This has to be the most ridiculous question Papi has ever asked me.

Seriously.

My love was actually being sincere.

I don't pay over a hundred bucks to get my hair cut just because I like to spend money.

My honky 'fro definitely needs some professional attention right now, but after I've seen my love's D.I.Y. projects go a wee bit awry, I had to wonder if Papi had perhaps been nipping at my Crack Butter.

cut this hair?!?!?!  not a hope in hell you're getting near my honky 'fro with scissors

The only reason I know he hasn't, is because after my love tried the Crack Butter just once, in hopes that his anxiety would be relieved, he is almost ready to bid adieu to butter all together.

Every time I've had to ask my Crack Butter to dull my nerves' pain, mi esposo goes into a dramatic monologue that sorta goes like this:

"Oh, God!"

**gags**

"That is SO disgusting."

**dry heave**

"I don't know how you can eat that!"

**hacks**

Well, my love, it's a bit akin to how I hate bananas so much that I truly gag every time I eat them, yet I've eaten them when I've had insomnia.

bananas have tryptophan just fyi ...

Anyway, back to my hair, because it's really all about my hair.

I made my hair pretty, because we were supposed to go to a party last night for my sweet friend's housewarming celebration, but Papi had healing issues and had to stay home and rest.

Personally, I was afraid that haters could potentially be going to the party, or I'd have gone solo.

Today is not one of those times I feel safe to go it alone.

I guess I have been affected by the Hen Peckers without realizing it.

Yeah, I may be fine with their mean words on the internet, but actively seeing their dirty looks and jeers?

I have had to do it recently, and it just wasn't my idea of fun.

So, nah.

I can't play that game at this moment.

The saddest part is twofold: a) I let my fear win and didn't get the see one of the sweetest friends I have, and b) my good hair day went to waste.

Damn good thing I didn't get all dressed up with nowhere to go.

Instead, I got to pass by the mirror every half our to enjoy my good hair seeing as how Papi just let me know in a round about way that it's time for a cut.

Sure.

Just as soon I have regular grocery money coming in, a hair cut could happen.

However, there was also some drama time with Psycho Kitty.

Yes, it's that time of year again, ...

... it's been a relaxing 2 days without the g'ma ...

... where we leave the door open between floors, and the kitteh heads roll.

Well, it's really my kitties that get the beatdown.  So far, nobody's fur has been pulled from the root and strewn down the hall.

But tomorrow is a new day.

There may be feline drama tomorrow, or the next day, or the next week, but be assured, fuzzy heads will roll.

Just as long as it isn't The Mrs.