Dad was not amused. Chel recounted the ordeal of struggling under all that hair and finally having to yell for help. Neither was I. Yards and yards of thick hair were far heavier than one might imagine and with it attached to her head, it was even worse. She made a mental note to start carrying a knife of some kind. A knife might be handy in just about any situation she had been in recently, even a small one.
Vic stared at the piles of hair once Chel was free. Chel had protested repeatedly that they better not cut it too short once they came in armed with super sharp alien made kitchen knives. They hacked at everything hanging off the bed first, then worked their way to Chel’s head until she was able to slip out from under her excessive tresses and find her feet again. They stung, having fallen asleep under all that weight.
“Chel, it might be a good idea to avoid anymore alien offers.” Her father moved a length of hair over her shoulder, out of her face.
“Don’t worry, Dad!” Chel nodded vigorously. “I agree!”
Bah. Hubby broke a toe on Thursday, then began feeling sick on and off, making for a not so fun birthday for me on Sunday. MWF updates this week and next. Spring Break this week.
Also, the tally is current. It hasn’t moved out of January.