All the floors in my house have been replaced over the last three weeks-ish. It’s been awesome, but it’s also like moving (just in and out of the same space you already occupy and wondering why everything doesn’t fit back the same).

In preparation for the new carpet in the bedroom, some amazing friends came over to help me schlep and stack my private space into other parts of my house. Having nearly finished, I stumbled up the other half of a broken hangar that had inexplicably disappeared earlier in the day.

I said, “Oh, there’s that hanger.” And bent over to pick it up.

But, what they heard was, “Oh, there’s that hair.”

When I stood back up I turned to face my friends, they were all exchanging glances with each other and looking at me a little like my clothes had magically disappeared. There was a three-way silent debate happening that definitely did not include me.

Finally, one of them spoke up, asking, “What did you find?”

“A hanger.”

“Oh.” A collective “oh,” followed by “Ok, what’s next?”

And, boy were they relieved when I corrected their minds. This naturally led to a lengthy round of good-natured teasing about the secret hair collection that they were all pretty sure I’d just outed myself on.

“Also, that’s definitely not what we heard. But if you say so.”

It’s that kind of group. Everyone gets teased from time to time. 

When the teasing ended, I looked at them and said, “Guys, I really appreciate that you were all willing to stand here and just move on as if nothing was weird when you thought I was working towards a world record human hair ball.”

“I mean, if that’s what you’re into.”
“Of course, just don’t think we aren’t going to ask you about it.”
“Are you telling us you actually have a collection of old hairs?”

Translation: We got you, no matter how weird you get. Full stop. End of discussion.

My friends are pretty f*ing rad. I’m a lucky human.

Everyone deserves friends like that.

(And, no, I do not have a collection of shed hairs waiting for their 15 minutes of fame. I swear.)