A Cold Day in Spring with Wet Hair

It's spring break, but I am still waiting for the break to come. Fat Sam and Cagey Joe are hard at it four hours a day, every day. That play had better be a good one because I have devoted our entire week to making sure they get where they need to go. The rest of us just have to shuffle along, characters without names or roles or time in the spotlight. All the world is a stage...
Not much else to report. The girls went golfing with their grandmother. "Bolt" plays in the front room to the two younger boys and I am feeling a nap coming on. My hair is wet, I'm wearing a jean skort, a blue sweatshirt, white socks, and black loafers. Katie would love my ensemble and I would get high marks for originality, no doubt. I actually went out of the house in this. Did I tell you I was wearing this yesterday too? It wasn't dirty today so I just picked it up off the floor and put it on again. I be in the mood to wear it again tomorrow.
I did take a shower this morning and put clean unmentionables on so there's no need for you to think that I'm unclean. Hence, the wet hair. I even bought myself a once expensive tube of hair product that is designed to undry my dry hair. (It was on sale at Penney's and I used it this morning.) When I got it cut the other day, the thing that cut my hair (and yes, I'm being unkind) asked me what I used on it. I was pleased to play stupid and tell her that I didn't know. I just used whatever was in the shower. (I actually use Tresamme' conditioner and comb it through and am quite faithful about it, but let's face it, it's cheap stuff, isn't it?) She felt compelled to tell me how DRY it was. But I don't care. I once was burned to the tune of 160 dollars of my husbands hard earned money at a different haircutting salon all for the sake of trimming and rejuvenating my hair. It didn't look much different than it does now. I don't care. It is what it is.