Dammit. The paranoid itching has started *again*...
After the whole hair fiasco (in which the train was late, the hair appointment was cancelled, tom got lost in Sutton, and my mum used a lot of colourful words which I have *never* heard her use before) I went home and started to make my tea.
I went to throw my eggshells away, and opened the small bin thing, and instead of seeing the contents of the bin, saw a load of hair. I pride myself on having quite quick reactions, but for some reason it took me about 5 seconds to realise that it was not, in fact, hair.
It was something hairy, definitely, and kind of dark green in colour.
With bits in.
And was growing out of the banana peels.
I have a phobia of two things. Spiders, and mould.
The latter of which was in the bin.
So I started screaming the house down, and running around trying to get away from the kitchen. My mum came down, in a fluster, thinking I’d stabbed myself with the bread knife or something equally painful judging from the racket I was making.
She started laughing when I told her I’d found some mold in the bin thing. I promptly refused to go back into the kitchen, so my mum took the bin away, while I continued to hover around the dining room, absolutely *sure* I could feel the damn hair mould all over my body. Ew. Just thinking about it now brings me out in goosebumps.
My mum was still laughing over the fact that I’d nearly had a heart attack over the contents of the bin, and when she asked why I was screaming about there being hair in the bin, I told her I’d thought, that in the first 5 seconds of discovering the mould, that Tom had had a haircut, and put the discarded hair in the compost bin. Why he would put his hair in the compost bin was beyond me, but somehow my mum found this all the more funnier.
She’s been teasing me about it all evening. I swear mothers are supposed to be loving, and caring and lots of other nice words. Not sneak up on their daughters and tickle them, pretending to me hairy mould and send them into paranoid itching all over again.
A moment ago, I went to get a nectarine. I got one out of the tub, washed it, and had it two centimetres from my mouth, when I happened to look down.
Guess what was on the side of the damn nectarine?
Only this time, it was silver, not green.
Which, I suppose, makes all the difference.
Eugh.
I went to throw my eggshells away, and opened the small bin thing, and instead of seeing the contents of the bin, saw a load of hair. I pride myself on having quite quick reactions, but for some reason it took me about 5 seconds to realise that it was not, in fact, hair.
It was something hairy, definitely, and kind of dark green in colour.
With bits in.
And was growing out of the banana peels.
I have a phobia of two things. Spiders, and mould.
The latter of which was in the bin.
So I started screaming the house down, and running around trying to get away from the kitchen. My mum came down, in a fluster, thinking I’d stabbed myself with the bread knife or something equally painful judging from the racket I was making.
She started laughing when I told her I’d found some mold in the bin thing. I promptly refused to go back into the kitchen, so my mum took the bin away, while I continued to hover around the dining room, absolutely *sure* I could feel the damn hair mould all over my body. Ew. Just thinking about it now brings me out in goosebumps.
My mum was still laughing over the fact that I’d nearly had a heart attack over the contents of the bin, and when she asked why I was screaming about there being hair in the bin, I told her I’d thought, that in the first 5 seconds of discovering the mould, that Tom had had a haircut, and put the discarded hair in the compost bin. Why he would put his hair in the compost bin was beyond me, but somehow my mum found this all the more funnier.
She’s been teasing me about it all evening. I swear mothers are supposed to be loving, and caring and lots of other nice words. Not sneak up on their daughters and tickle them, pretending to me hairy mould and send them into paranoid itching all over again.
A moment ago, I went to get a nectarine. I got one out of the tub, washed it, and had it two centimetres from my mouth, when I happened to look down.
Guess what was on the side of the damn nectarine?
Only this time, it was silver, not green.
Which, I suppose, makes all the difference.
Eugh.