Alternative title: Messy hair don’t care! … Oh wait no, I do care … I care a flaming lot as it happens! Because it may avert a bitch-fest, I say may I’m 99.999999% sure it won’t. 

“Are you sure the straighteners are unplugged?” my brain mutters as we shuffle down the M6.

“Pretty sure … In fact, I didn’t even use the straighteners this morning!” I mutter back.

“Are you sure? I remember you straightening your hair this morning” my brain clearly hasn’t noticed that my hair is in a very messy bun that is probably harbouring pigeons and squirrels “you know they’ll set the house on fire right? They’ll start with the carpet and then the wallpaper and then the -”

“Brain … No … We didn’t use the straighteners, they are not on, they are not even plugged in, they are-” I may as well be shouting at a wall at this point.

“Is that a fire engine?! Shit, THE HOUSE! Turn around, TURN ROUND RIGHT NOW! Oh geez, my Stephen King collection! TURN AROUND DAMNIT!”

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