When your husband is your wife

When your hair is straighter than your carpet on the floor, you get super excited to see some kind of volume. This might have been after a wedding party hair do but it counts. Until you take a shower and you turn in to your normal self.

We were at a wedding in Sweden two weeks ago. I paid a small fortune to get my hair looking like a cinnamon bun kind of way on my head. A small bird family would be able to live in there for at least a week. Or so I thought. I guess the hairdresser didn’t include hairspray in their price and half of it fell down after an hour. That’s when you are happy you have a husband that might be suspiciously feminine and don’t mind getting his (well hidden) hairdresser skills going and put it up again. Don’t know how. Don’t care. It lasted all night and I didn’t have to pay him.