Children's Book Reviews

Dec 1, 2010

I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta of my Hair



I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair!  


I looked in the mirror after showering this morning, and was studded by my reflection. How could that reflection   first strands of old lady hair, well actually, a  few white grays that used to be blond. I think of things out of the ordinary in the shower and today wasn't an exception. 


Today, I sang the song, I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair, a tune from the 1958  Rodgers and Hammerstein's Academy Award®-winning film South Pacific,  thought about my past. And my past includes my ex-husband, who I think about every time I hear that song. I imagine washing him out of my hair, then watching him swirl down the bathtub drain in circular motion.



I considered other song titles that would have work nicely, such as, "I ’m gonna cram that man right down the tub drain," or "toss his bags right out the front door"...but I didn’t want to bore anyone-

This morning, I contemplated how joyful it would be to have magical powers, like Samantha Stevens, starring Elizabeth Montgomery on the Bewitched Show, which on television in the sixties.(by the way, I was a child at the time. A tiny one) 

With magical powers I could have shrunk my ex to the size of Stuart Little. I'm not sure how many of you are familiar with the situation comedy, Bewitched, since it was on television in the last century, so I'll enlighten you to a few of the characters.Samantha inherited her powers from her mother, "Endora," who wasn't to happy with her son in law, Darin, played by Dick York, so she popped in on a regular basis just to aggravate the daylights out of the man. Besides, what else has a witch to do with her day?        
I thought of Endora when I stepped out of the shower, and dreamed I was a witch, overjoyed my the thought of downsizing my ex-husband.  I loved the Bewitched Show because it was a show about a woman witch. Anyway, I hope you are familiar with the comedy. If you're not, the leading characters mother referred to her son- in -law as "Dagwood" instead of calling him by his real name, which was "Darin."  I loved it.
                                                


Hence, I will call my ex "Dagwood," because I have decided that is his new name- Forever-

Moving on, today I thought about my "Dagwood" as I looked in the mirror at my "new" grays, and I felt as though tiny slivers of ice were moving through my veins.   You see, it's his fault I'm turning gray in my tender years.  Oh, I wish I could magically twinkle him into a tiny little man and watch him go down the drain.

I would love to see him swirling in a tiny tub tornado. But, that's not the best part. The best part is the thought of him calling out to me in a small voice...."Help me Ann, come on honey, wha...in-the... Ann?"




Actually, to be honest, I can’t wash any of the Dagwoods out of my hair, head, or heart.
I don't have dreams about past relationships often, or at least I don't think I do, if I do, I don't recall them. Besides, whatever I dream at night sticks in a corner of my brain and blends into a daydream the following day. I wonder if there is a reason for that? Perhaps, I'm blocking them out, or keeping myself at a distance...oh, I don't know...men are just a pain in the butt...and they give you gray hair.

I suppose this morning's moment was due to the fact that I woke up with a weary subconscious. I've been hit by the waves of nostalgia that stay in my brain long after relationships are over...and a few of them have remained drenched in memory- soaked- far away from now, sailing into the future.

In any event, I don’t think you ever get pass some loves, no matter how many times you flush them down the drain.. And sometimes more than one love will remain transfixed in your head, memories, and heart; it's just unfortunate that there are times when love doesn't have anything to do with it. 

In closing, I will admit to a present make up, break up relationship.. I wash him down the drain and out of my hair frequently, although he remains transfixed in my heart and soul.  

So, I've decided to give him an official nickname, which is Driftwood.  Yes, from now on, the man I have twirling in a tiny tub tornado, is Driftwood.

And I hope that Driftwood will be the last man to bite the dust, spin in the wash, or encircle the drain. Because, I'm getting tired of washing men out of my hair, and depending on how much they mean to you, a girl can go through an awful lot of conditioner.

Link to Dick York Image from google images.    Stuarts image is from Revolutionary links