My friend Jenna is getting married in August and I am a bridesmaid in her wedding.
Jenna is my oldest friend. We went to kindergarten together and have been friends ever since, which makes that 22 years of friendship. Jenna lives in Boston now, but she was home for the weekend and I went to her house on Sunday to see her veil and look at bridal hairstyles on Pinterest and help her assemble her wedding invitations.
We worked on wedding tasks for a few hours and then her parents ordered us pizza and we sat at her kitchen table eating our pizza and brownies for dessert while her dad made corny jokes and her mom refilled our lemonade. It almost felt like we traveled back in time to sixth grade instead of being grown ups who live on our own and have real jobs and were talking about her WEDDING.
Jenna's shower was last month, and the night before I went through my box of mementos from my own bridal shower last year, and came across the slideshow that was played. There were pictures of me and Matt and then pictures of the two of us. That night Matt and I watched the DVD together and by the way we oohed and aahed over our childhood adorableness I almost looked into upgrading to a two bedroom apartment to accommodate our egos.
Although, let's be honest, you'd be hard pressed to find kids cuter than the two of us.
But perhaps the most entertaining pictures were the photos of me between the ages of about three and five. Those were the years that I desperately wanted long hair, but what I had was this adorable little bowl cut.
And so in lieu of actual hair, I wore a pink baby nightgown on my head. All. The. Time. And I called it "my hair" without even a hint of irony.
As in, "Are you ready to eat breakfast Laura?"
"One minute Mom, just putting on my shoes and my hair."
And my mom would style my nightgown-hair every morning in various styles per my request. Some days I would wear it "all down," but my favorites were "up on both sides" and a "high ponytail." My mom was even able to rig up pig tails by twisting the nightgown on my head and putting the arms in one pigtail and the body in the other.
My parents finally bought me an Ariel wig, but I still loved my hair.
And my hair is in a box in my mom's closet.
Don't worry Jenna.
I won't wear it to the wedding.