If anyone wants to know what kind of person I am, I really can't do better than to say I'm the kind of person who gets an electric eggbeater stuck in her hair.
Friday, April 17, 2009
While making a fancy cheesecake for Rowan's school's fundraiser ball tomorrow night, I somehow leaned over the bowl too far and before I knew it, my handheld electric eggbeater had grabbed some of my hair and whirled up my head and was yanking my hair right out of my scalp.
I'm not the kind of person of whom it is said "she really keeps her cool in a crisis," and so it didn't, at first, occur to me to pull the plug. Instead I staggered about the kitchen bellowing like a bull and clutching wildly at my head trying to find the off button. Luckily the cord isn't very long and I yanked it out of the wall in my thrashing dance of agony.
Rowan came running, yelling "what's wrong, mom?" only to stop dead at the sight of me with a small appliance stuck to my head, not to mention about a half a pound of cream cheese. With her help, I was able to pop the beaters out of the machine body, which was an improvement, but I was in a not inconsiderable amount of pain. The motor had run long enough to roll the beaters right up against my scalp and pull my hair extremely hard. Between the pain and the sheer ridiculousness, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So I did both.
To make a long story short, I only lost a hank of hair about the thickness of my pinky finger; cream cheese washes out fairly easily; and no, I didn't take a picture.