Where the heck are all my ponytail holders?
I opened my bathroom drawer this morning and they are gone – all of them. Even the neon colors I keep for emergencies. Yes, I have ponytail emergencies. Those “I am just shoving a bike helmet on in 30 minutes I refuse to do anything with my hair let me pull it back with anything” kind of emergencies that I have at least 3 days a week.
But even the ugly colors were gone. And the stretched out so much there is really no elasticity left in the elastic ones. I live with two guys with ultra short hair, they aren’t taking them.
I know I am not the only one that has this problem. Jeneral Insanity has a whole conspiracy theory about this issue. Garden gnomes? Super Secret Ninja Squirrels? Maybe the black holes that get tired of sucking one sock out of the dryer?
I however have a trail of bread crumbs to follow. Over a year or so ago, for some unknown reason my husband decided to sweep under our bed. He dumped this pile in my lap when he was done.
He: There must be 20 here.
Me: Not that many more like 10. I’ll count. 15, so we were both ri…
He: I was right.
He: Rounding rules, if it is a 5 or higher you round up.
Me: (under my breath) this is what happens when you marry a math instructor.
Remebering this incident of shame and annoyance, I grab the dust mop and move my bed to discover eight of them! Eight perfectly good ponytail holders had found a new home under my bed, AGAIN.
So the best theory I can come up with at the moment is the fashionista dust bunnies have some sort of Duck Dynasty fantasy going and want to pull their ears back like this:
Couldn’t be that I pull my hair back before bed and flip flop around all night so they come out and wind their way off the bed. Nope, I am going with the fashionista dust bunnies.