....I thought as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. It was Saturday morning, and I had a big day ahead. Both the Ukranian and the United Church were having rummage sales on the same morning. I was bound and determined to go to both. I'd slept a little late (7:40) as both L.D. and the Baby had taken a turn at waking me up during the night. The Baby likes to squirm/scootch his way up to the top of his crib and then I waken to the gentle, intermittent 'thunk...... thud....' as he bonks his head against his headboard. I like to get to him and return him to the bottom half of his crib mattress before he works his way into the upper corner and wakes scrunched up there at an odd angle and crying. Then, the Little Dude, has started waking up during the night to go to the bathroom. At which point he sits up and bed and calls "mama..... I NEEEEEEEEED yoooouuuuuuu! Daday.... pee pee on the POTAAAAAAAY" Until one of us goes and gets him. And I'll bet you can't guess who goes. Yeah, its usually me unless I get my elbows sharpened and in action and give Hubs a good jab, two or three times until he finally wakes up and then I have to explain to him why he's awake because he's all disoriented and groggy. ("L.D. needs to go to the potty. He wants YOU. Go before he wakes the baby!") Which reminds me, I don't know why they say 'sleeps like a baby' because a) anyone who's ever had a baby can tell you that long stretches of unbroken sleep is not most baby's strong suit at first. and b) it should be 'sleeps like a husband'. Because if there is anyone's sleeping abilities to envy, its the man of the house for sure. I hate to generalize/brag, but I'm awake and fully lucid and halfway down the hallway to a child's room in seconds during the night at the slightest noise and most of the time when I wake up, Hubs appears to be in a coma. He insists to the contrary; that my getting in and out of bed to tend to the boys disturbs his sleep terribly, (boo hoo) but then, I always ask, if you were awake, why didn't you get up? Hmmmm? I rest my case.
Oh, but I digress terribly, my point was, that on Saturday morning, groggy but determined, I went and took a shower. And after throwing on some decent clothes, and brushing my teeth I looked in the mirror and though, 'sheesh, that's some bad hair. The least I can do is slap it into a ponytail and straighten my bangs.' So I plugged in the flat iron, helped L.D. onto and off of the potty, and then took the hot straightener to my wet bangs and.... 
...burned the crap out of them. Yeah, that burning smell... that's the smell of my impatience and stupidity. Sigh.
Its hard to see in this picture*, but see how its all frizzeldy and weird over on the right side? About a third of the bangs are burned, so that the texture will never be the same. It sort of shriveled up and got crispy. I went straight to the hairdresser, who cut off as much as she could without making me look like a lobotomy patient, and then wore a hat for the rest of the day. And I put mayonaise on them and vaseline on them and olive oil on them and anything else anyone suggested would rehydrate them and make them not look like dried grass.
The next day I washed them and dried them and then carefully used the flat iron again, and they don't look ridiculous, (though they do stick out in a funny way, and definitely feel different from the rest of the hair) so I guess I'll survive.
But I know what you really want to know. Yes, I did get to both the rummage sales and a random garage sale that I passed on the way home. So overall, the day was a success. You can see where my priorities are.
*please note that in real life, both my eyes are the same size, although in pictures for some reason, my right one often looks slightly smaller than my left. Another reason I'll never be a model. Along with "I like eating", "plane travel sucks" and "the hours are ridiculous".