$9.73

This is the story of ...  my hair dryer. Our hair dryer. We've been through a lot together.  My parents bought this for me in high school - I think maybe when my sister left for college and took hers with her. That would have been 1996. Sixteen years isn't all that long I guess.

(It IS more than half of my lifetime.)

My precious hair dryer went on numerous school trips with me, a few across the country.

I used it for homecoming and prom and graduation. After lifeguarding and before tractor driving; before dates and after jogging in the rain.

It has moved with me eight times.

It dried my hair the morning I got married. It became *our* hair dryer. (He uses it more than I do, but this is my story.)

It has been up bright and early lots of times. Some days it was skipped because I slept late.

It has been dropped a few times.

And borrowed and returned a few times.

It dried my hair when Ben graduated from college. When we had our baby. When we cared for our baby. When we buried our baby.

(Hair dryers are good for drying tears too. I took lots of pity showers that year.)

It dried my hair before my own college graduation. And when our other five babies were born. Happy, happy hair dryer.

It has warmed up my feet, and dried the wet carpet, and blown on kids' faces to make them scream with delight.

Our hair dryer has been plugged in and unplugged many, many, many, many times. For the safety of the kids, of course.

That's not to say that it is actually safe:

It has been dropped a few more times.

It has smoked.

It has zapped.

It has actually shot out flames.

I have fixed it lots of times.  I cleaned it out with a toothbrush. (No, not my own.) And shook it and hit it on the wall. I'm good at fixing things.

But just think of how much hair it has to dry! My hair is thick and long.  

I've donated my hair three times.  From this, I know that my hair grows five inches a year.

I have gone through at least five curling irons.

And three vacuums.  (Vacuums love long hair.)

But the hair dryer has kept chugging on.

Lately, though, it has only worked if we do certain things. Like turning it on and off several times, shaking it, holding the button in with a death grip, and then not. moving. it. at. all.

Oh and we only have to push the "test" and "reset" buttons a few times every session.

But this hair dryer has totally been worth it.

It has been comfortable and functional and a part of my life.


And then... It stopped working altogether.

Boo.  Not good.  This hair dryer and I have a history together!  It can't just quit on me like that.

Well, I guess it can.

Without asking my permission (haha), Ben brought home a new hair dryer. It is cool!  Which basically means that it's almost exactly like our old one.  Minus the flames.  And it has a removable piece that lets you clean the lint out without a toothbrush or violence. Huh. I guess it will suffice.

So the old hair dryer is wrapped up snugly in my bottom drawer, where it will sit for awhile until the nostalgia wears off enough for me to throw it away.

So the old era is over.  The new hair dryer dries my hair twice as fast. It cost nine dollars and seventy-three cents.

I wonder what the next sixteen years has in store for us.