The only mirror I can find is a small one with a magnet, meant to go in Darling Daughter's locker but attached to the side of the 'fridge.
I have to leave the house and go out in public each day. I'm not a vain woman, but I do wish to avoid looking foolish if at all possible. Apparently it's not possible.
When looking in this tiny mirror, I see an eye, an eyebrow, a small (very small) patch of hair. I shift my head right, then left, then take the plunge and hit it with hairspray.
I arrive at work and get right to it. At Job # 1, I am "balls to the walls" busy, if you will pardon the expression. It's generally a couple of hours before I head to the ladies room. And then ... yikes!
I look in the mirror - a big, normal mirror - and realize I'm sporting an Alfalfa 'do:
Or a Rod Stewart younger-days just-got-out-of-bed tousle...
Or a Groucho part and wave...
Or worse yet - the MOE....
Thankfully, I work in a church. They're very forgiving about many things. Goofy hair doesn't faze them in the least.
Or maybe they just think of me a comedy relief.