Pink Sheets

Friday, July 29, 2005

Cute, Sweet, Nice Blah, Blah, Blah

Yesterday I went to get my brows waxed at my favorite salon, which I’ve mentioned before. Brian also goes to the same salon to have his haircut and happened to have a hair appointment earlier that day. Apparently, everyone at the salon simply adores Brian. They think he is so cute and so sweet and so nice.

I go in and my stylist is gushing about how I’m beginning to show and how cute I look. We discuss baby names and she tells me she is so glad I decided not go with the name Savanna because she doesn’t like that name. Basically, we talk about me. Because isn’t that what’s suppose to happen when you go somewhere to get yourself beautified? You talk about yourself? So, the discussion begins on the right note.

And then, all of sudden, it shifted. My stylist happened to mention that Brian was in earlier and he said he was just going to pay for my wax while he was there. She said the woman waiting thought that was so sweet of him to pay for my wax. She said that her husband would never think do that. Then the other stylist, whom shares a room with mine, joins in. “Our Brian is your Brian. Oh we love Brian he is so cute. We just love when he comes in.”

“Yes, he is adorable isn’t he?” I smirk. Hmph!! Brian, Brian, Brian. Sheesh. I then go over to have my brows waxed in the next room and while I’m laying there another stylist, who does not share a room with mine walks by. “Oh my God! Are you expecting?” I tell her yes. “Oh you look great!!” I smile and tell her thank you. We chit chat a little more about me, when she asks, “oh, isn’t your husband the guy that comes in here? Isn’t his name Brian?”

My stylist says, “oh yes, yes. That’s him. It’s his baby.”

“Oh he is so sweet and cute. I think it’s so funny he gets his eye brows waxed. My husband would never get his waxed. He’s a wimp.”

I nod in agreement. Again! (I also didn’t correct her when she called him my husband because I get that all the time. Sometimes I make the correction, sometimes I don’t. This time I didn’t.)

By the way, it only takes about 15 minutes to have your brows waxed. The majority of that 15 minutes was spent discussing how adorable and wonderful Brian is. I suppose that’s okay. I suppose I can put up with all this adoration for him, but only because, for the most part, he is so cute and so sweet and so nice and he is all mine. They get to see him for an hour every month and I get him all the time. The little arrangement works fine for me.

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