Hair

This is a turn your cheeks red post. If you don't want to have red cheeks... turn back now.


Sitting at dinner last night. Tired after a long week, hot, worked at the office and then at home on a messy project. Needed pizza and a beer(s). Schmizza it is.

Two adults. Four kids. The table is loud as is typical with four kids. I am so hungry I can only focus on my slice. And guzzling my beer.

The boys start talking about hair. As they are 13 and 11, this is coming up more and more.

11 year old says, 'I didn't use any gel today.'

My boy says, 'I usually just brush mine back into a queef.'

I freeze.

Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. 

...too late....

OK. Laugh. But don't make eye contact with the other adult at the table. That would be suicide. Just look down.

The boy, confused by my hysterical giggles, follows it up with, 'You know, a queef. It's a hair style.'

I jerk my head up and we make eye contact. Shit. I start to choke. I grab my napkin and cover my eyes. I let myself slump over and giggle. Loudly. So loudly. Tears running.

He's now really confused and saying things like, 'wow, my mom has totally lost it!'

I can't breathe.

Finally, I muster all the strength I have and say, loudly, 'you have a coiffure!'

'Oh, yeah, that's it!'

Yes. That's it.

And it's a much different thing.

You'll have to look the other word up yourself.