So, I've gone and cheated on Drew. I've been faithful to him for the past ten years, but today, I cheated on him. Before Drew it was William, for seven years. Good ol' William. But when I moved to Dallas, William and I found ourselves separated by 1200 miles, and our relationship couldn't survive. Shortly thereafter, I met Drew here in Dallas and fell for him immediately.
Simmer down, everybody. Drew is my Hair Guy. As was William. As is now Jordan. Except Jordan is my hair girl. It's in lowercase letters because I'm not in a committed relationship with her yet.
I've nothing against Drew. In fact, we had a very stable, caring relationship for the last decade. We're talking, real dedication. If you are a woman and you are reading this, you can probably understand my heartbreak. We get really, and I mean really, attached to our Hair People. Drew knew me. He knew my hair. He knew not to make it too brassy or too platinum. He knew lowlights and highlights. He could do Golden Ash Blonde just perfectly. He would never let me make impulsive hair decisions. He protected my hair, he loved my hair.
The reason I left definitely wasn't him. And, it wasn't even me. It was Chris.
It was economic. I've always been of the opinion that you can't put a price on beauty. But apparently, you can. And the price for my beauty was too high. As in, Drew cost too stinkin' much. So I had to go find a new, cheaper version of Drew. And let me tell you, newer cheaper Drews are not easy to come by.
We've made a collective decision in our household to cut back on spending. The years of infertility treatments, coupled with adoption expenses, added to the gi-normous expense of diapers and this exorbitantly expensive designer formula Caroline's delicate system requires have forced us to make some sacrifices. First to go, much to my chagrin, was Drew.
Let me explain how it happens at our house. About once a month, one or both of us will get the willies. There will be just one too many battery-operated noise-producing toys (who invented these things?) blaring in the background, and either he, or I, or both, will just decide it's time to begin reducing the clutter and sometimes earsplitting chaos that comes with having Two under three. We will go through the house, disposing of ancillary things disordering our previously well-controlled environment, chanting, "Simplify! Simplify!" Eventually, I'll get involved in some probably as yet to be finished project, such as going through the girls' clothes with the intention of giving some away (but I can't! Every single item is attached to a memory! Can't you see I have a problem?), and Chris will retire to his office to review our finances and decide what needs to go, so as to reduce the muddled confusion that is our bank account. Ergo, bye-bye Drew. Sniff, sniff.
To his credit, Chris comes by it honestly. His father has been known to go five miles out of his way to avoid paying a 50-cent toll. He refused power windows or door locks in his car because of the added expense and the risk of failure and repair. So it did not surprise me in the least the other day, when Chris came to me and asked me to try using only three squares of toilet paper each time I go.
I lie. I was appalled. And I laughed hysterically. And then I was appalled again. And then I laughed again.
I decided to offer him a compromise. I would find an alternative, less expensive Drew, but I would not, I repeat, would not, compromise my hygiene to save a few extra rolls of toilet paper a month. (And just so we're clear, it's not me who is using all the TP in our house. It's Aria Grace, who gets a kick out of flushing paper down the toilet to watch it go).
I realize it's not about toilet paper or highlights. It's about being aware of our spending. I'm honesly trying to think before I buy: need or want, need or want? After all, we have two colleges, two medical schools, two weddings, and hopefully, one more adoption, to save for. But that's a post for another day...
Incidentally, Jordan did a really good job on my hair, which I liked. And she was half the price of Drew, which Chris liked. She might become my uppercase Hair Girl very soon.