i bought a blue shower cap the other day. it’s really blue. like the color of a smurf. i had been wanting to get a shower cap to make those days when i don’t wash my hair (see also: most days that end in “y”) an easier endeavor. well that, and honestly, how fun are shower caps? wearing one is like pretending you’re part of the olympic synchronized swimming team. and really, being a part of that team is like my one goal in life, so you know.
the other night i decided to take my shower cap out of its package and take it on its inaugural journey through the rinse cycle. i swept my hair back in a hair tie and pulled the plastic bonnet down below my ears, tucking in any rogue flyaways along the way. i stood back and stared at myself in the mirror. i couldn’t help but laugh. never mind that whole thing about being a stand-in for the synchronized swim team, my look was more reminiscent of rosemary, the elderly lady who likes to preserve her blow out while taking her tuesday morning water aerobics class. but despite being less than flattering, turns out the $2 shower cap was not purchased in vain. it did the trick and kept my locks dry.
i’m not really sure why i’m telling you this story. i suppose on one hand, it’s a PSA for walmart (you’re welcome, walmart) for their ample supply of really becoming shower caps. but i think it maybe has more to do with me sharing just what it’s like in the life of yours truly after the four o’clock whistle blows and i’m back to tend to my suburbian shenanigans. i mean, if only to make you jealous. clearly. while some of you may be nursing cocktails at the latest hot spot downtown after work or having date night with your main squeeze at your favorite local eatery, i’m modeling blue shower caps in the mirror and telling you about it on my blog.
so you know, gentlemen, the line forms to the left.