This weekend I went to get my hair all cut off and I was describing to Melinda (my stylist for over 20 years, 25 maybe?) how much I hate my thick hair when it’s long and turns in to a rat’s nest.

Melinda: Have you ever seen an actual rat’s nest?
Me: I have! With a dead rat in the middle of it. It was just like my hair.
Melinda: Really?
Me: No, not really at all. But it’s all thick and gets tangled up in the back and is awful.
Melinda: Does it really?
Me: Well no one else notices it but I do and I hate it. Also, why are you defending my hair so much?
Melinda: It is really thick. Monkey thick.
Me: Right. There’s just so much of it and it drives me crazy and…
Melinda: (giggling)
Me: Wait. Did you just say ‘monkey thick’?
Melinda: YES!
Me: (giggling) What does that even mean?
Melinda: Monkey’s aren’t thick.
Me: Thick as thieves?
Melinda: Thieving bananas?
Me: This makes NO sense.
Melinda: I don’t know why I said it!
Me: I do say ‘crap monkeys’ a lot. But that makes sort of sense. Monkeys do throw feces at you.
Melinda: Thick as Monkey Crap!
Me: I wouldn’t go that far, woman. My hair isn’t crap.
Melinda: No, it’s just monkey thick.

This post, I am suddenly realizing, should have a picture. Possibly a picture of me with either a monkey, a dead rat, or feces on my head. You get none of those things. Not even a cute one of my new haircut.