How to get into the salon when they are already completely booked:

Just repeat what your 8 year-old said to you that morning when looking at your head.

"Mom, you look like a skunk."

Female humiliation is universal, they will squeeze you in.

I wonder what mammel I'll be compared to today.

Sort of here

Although we're home, I don't really feel all here.

Mainly because we're all not.

I think I left A's blanket at the hotel.

Please, don't. I await a phone call saying they've found it amongst the discarded blankets of the little double bed Frick, Frack, Freak and I shared every night. They have my credit card number to FedEx it as soon as it is found--which will be a miracle in itself if the description of "a child's pink blanket" can reasonably apply to the thing that A-Dog carries around everywhere. Hopefully, Housekeeping has not mistaken it for a spool of dirty yarn from a seconds store. Or a bag lady's knitting basket. Or Barney's lower intestine and colon. Or what a muppet threw up after a night of binge drinking.

Oh, I'm in trouble.