the small matter of a scrunchy

No marriage, no matter how seemingly healthy, is without its problems. That's because no relationship between husband and wife is perfect. Even the happiest of partnerships have their pits and valleys, and it's unrealistic think that any relationship can be rainbow sprinkles and glittery unicorns 24/7.

Clayton's and my marriage is no exception. 

Though I believe Clayton's and my relationship to be somewhat blessed, there has been a small matter that has slowly but surely driven a wedge between us over the past four years of wedded bliss. It's a point of contention that, if continued to be ignored, could potentially result in a great deal of trouble for us in the future.

I've had this scrunchy since I was about 6 years old. It's from the long-forgotten store called The Limited Too, a trendy, high-end clothing store for little girls and tweens. The chain eventually went out of business and my sister and I eventually outgrew the clothes, but for reasons unbeknownst to me, this scrunchy has continued to follow me around for the past 20 or so years.

It survived high school, came with me to college, and even after saying my "I dos" to the man of my dreams and promising him that I would keep up both our home and my appearance; this dilapidated, dingy scrunchy still makes its way into my hair at night.

And Clayton absolutely hates it.

In fact, he LOATHES it.

I wouldn't be stretching the truth in the slightest if I told you that he has gently pulled this scrunchy right from my hair and flung it across the room on more than one occasion.

If I were to come out of the bathroom with my hair looped through this scrunchy and piled on top of my head, Clayton will immediately stop whatever sentence he's in the middle of and stare daggers at my head. If looks could kill, my scrunchy would have been melted down to its bare cotton fibers years ago.

I'm not sure why Clayton has such a beef with my red and black scrunchy (or if its all scrunchies), but I suspect it stems from some traumatic incident in the boys' locker room during middle school. I don't know. He's never been able to give me a solid explanation as to why he hates it so much and until he does, I'm going to make up whatever back story I want.

I can't stand having a single strand of hair in my face when I'm cleaning, cooking or sitting perfectly still. And now that my hair is finally long enough to put up in a messy bun without the assistance of eleventy billion bobby pins, you can bet your sweet bottom that scrunchy will be on display often during the humid, sticky summer evenings coming our way. 

This scrunchy? Is a total mood killer. I could saunter into our bedroom wearing the sexiest of lingerie and have just switched bodies with Heidi Klum through some crazy new plastic surgery procedure that's not yet available to the general public, but if this scrunchy is anywhere on my person, Clayton would fake a headache and go to sleep.

Never has anyone hated anything as much as Clayton hates this scrunchy.

And I find it hilarious.

Which is why I wear this scrunchy all the time. It is the exact reason why I never dare part with it. Never has anything brought me more mild amusement than watching Clayton watch my scrunchy bob around on top of my head in a blind rage.

Clayton is one of the most patient people I know and I've always admired his ability to remain calm and collected, even in the most chaotic or frustrating of situations. But all it takes to bring this stoic man to his boiling point? An innocent little girl's hair tie. 

If I was a nice wife, I would throw the scrunchy away or at the least bury it in the bottom of my memory box to reminisce over when I'm an old woman. But I don't want to.

It's not like I wear it out in public that often.

Come on, can you honestly tell me this doesn't look good?

On second thought, don't answer that.


  1. Replies
    1. yep i agree - keep that thing forever. and when you guys are old, demand that you be buried with it in your hair for good measure. haha! love it!

  2. So awesome! Limited Too....oh, how I miss seeing all that pink and glitter....wait. No I don''s all in that store, Justice, now.

    You hold onto that scrunchy forever and ever. And ever.


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