Regretting Decisions
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Regretting Decisions
By Propst
Young adults, everyday make erroneous decisions and then wish they could turn back time. I for one have made my fair share of unfortunate decisions; however, one particular event stands out. When I was fifteen years old, I begged my mother for a permanent for my medium length hair. I simply had to have it because I read in Teen Fashion magazine that curly hair was the “in” thing. Since summer vacation was ending, I knew I had to talk her into it fast in order to have a perm for the new school year. After annoyingly begging my mother, she finally agreed to allow me to have the perm.
As my mother rolled my hair into the little purple hair curlers, I was so excited. I kept daydreaming about how beautiful my hair would be and how the other girls in school would be envious of my long flowing locks of curls. I could just see myself swinging open the front doors to the school, walking in, and hearing the gasps, then silence of the large crowd of students waiting to collect their schedules. Then abruptly, I hear my mother say, “You know, Betty, your just not going to be happy with the resultsÐI know, Ðcause youre never satisfied”.
The thirty minutes it took for the curling solution to set felt like forever. I just could not wait for the timer bell to ring and see my lustrous locks of curls revealed. As my mother unrolled the rollers, I could feel the curls spring back to my scalp. When she was finished, I darted upstairs to look in the mirror.
I was horrified at what I saw staring back at me in the mirror. I had plenty of curls, but the length had disappeared. The curls were miniature and taut. I decided to add some mousse and blow-dry it. When it was dry, I ran to the bathroom mirror and was even more terrified, for I looked as if I were preparing to audition for Annie. My mother was right. I was not satisfied, and desperately wished I could turn back time.
As the day went on, I was perplexed as to what I was going to do. There was no way I was going to go to school with that terrible perm. My sister was in vocational school taking a six-week Introduction to