no scarves in the kitchen.

The smell of burning hair takes me back to my childhood. My daddy was a UPS driver and had truck stops all over. He regularly delivered to one man and started to develop a friendship with him. (Is that right, mom?) My dad was a friendly guy and everyone loved him and wanted to be his friend. (Lucky me & sister...we had the cool dad!) Anyhow, this man knew my dad had daughters about the same age as his daughter and invited us all to her birthday party.

I actually have a vivid memory of the party. I remember the little girl, the way her hair was styled, her shy smile, and her cake. Oh, the cake. We did the typical birthday party games, presents, and happy birthday song. (Sidenote...I always feel awkward during this song when it's being sung to me. What are you supposed to look at? Your friends...your family...your cake? I always stare blankly at the candles feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Sorry. Besides the point.) I remember so well that this little girl bent over her cake to blow out her candles and, you know where this is going, her hair caught on fire. It was scary for me to see, but they got it out quickly and she was alright. Still, the smell of hair...ugh.

Well, last night the smell came back to me. Let me start this by saying I got a really cool scarf from a dear friend for my birthday. I love scarves. From Sep-May I wear them religiously, so of course I was sporting it yesterday. Well, Danny and I had a dinner party last night. (We love dinner parties. If you love them, too, please tell me and we'll have one together.) I was helping him stir the fettucine, leaning over the stove and, yep, my scarf caught on fire. I didn't even notice- Danny pretty much saved me by screaming and hitting at the flames. I was so shocked I just unwrapped it from my neck and we stomped it out. Luckily my dress didn't catch. But my hair, my poor hair. And that oh-so-distinct smell. Gross. Lucky for me our dinner guest is a hairstylist and she just so happened to have her scissors with her.

So I am here today to say I am alive. And that my scarf isn't. And that the smell of burning hair is just horrible. And that the lesson of the day is no scarves in the kitchen.