Confessions of a Headband Hater

You know when you say that you hate something and your sister-in-law tells you you're just jealous? Sometimes your sister-in-law is right.

Here's the truth. I love headbands. LOVE THEM. I love headbands with bows. I love headbands with flowers. I love headbands with feathers. I even love headbands with with shiny blingy stuff on them!  Deep inside me there is a Blair Waldorf just begging to claw her way to the surface and satisfy her need for headbands in every size, shape, color and design!

Here is more of the truth. I cannot wear headbands. Put one on my head for more than 2 minutes and I have a splitting headache that will not go away and if left untended will quickly turn into a raging beast capable of sacking Carthage single handedly!  Yes, I have what is commonly referred to as a sensitive head. Which makes no sense because I can wear scarves (which sometimes are almost as cute as headbands.) with no problem. But pop a headband on me and I'm destined to cry.

Here is even more more truth, if you can handle it. I am ridiculously jealous whenever I see someone wearing a cute headband. Yes, yes that does mean you, Natalie. And you, Elizabeth. And especially you, Remy and Christina! You all disgust me with your cuteness that I am unable to attain! Oh yes, guilty of one of the deadly sins, right here.

Here is even more more more truth. I want boys. From my body, I mean, I want to have seven sons. I like boys. I think they're pretty easy going. They break things - yes. They hurt themselves and others - yes. They run around screaming and pretending to be Indians/monsters/soldiers/zombies - yes. But they will (hopefully) be relatively drama and emotion free. Oh yes. I like boys. But I want just three girls so I can live vicariously through them and turn them into little headband wearing Blairs.

The end.