She Gave Up Her Scrunchies for This Man

In every house, there is a certain drawer full of shame. I have to believe this is so. I must believe this is so, because the chagrin that the drawer chock full o' scrunchies in my mother's bathroom would be too unbearable should this cask be unique to my family. Years have passed, my parents separated, I went to college, the scrunchies drawer still remained. A sizable bathroom drawer, devoted entirely to ribbony, ruffley hair ties. No longer cool post 1994. In fact, I believe that movie with Toni Colette and Cameron Diaz, about the two sisters, what was that called? ::checks IMDB for verification:: Oh yeah, "In Her Shoes," well anyway. I think there's a line in there that says, "1994 called, it wants its scrunchie back." My mother never got the call. My mother is not one of those sentimental to a fault people, nor is she a true pack rat. She's just very busy. Not a busy body, her time is just divided and spoken for, and she doesn't get around much to projects like throwing away expired coupons, liquidating the garage of busted hoses, and TOSSING THE SCRUNCHIES FOR THE LOVE OF DEBBIE GIBSON.

My mother got remarried on Saturday. Lovely, lovely affair. I think she and her new hub are so happy together. BFFs with so much in common, it's just plain uncanny. Prior to the wedding, my mother informed me that she had "cleaned out the scrunchie drawer." Cleaned out as in totally evacuated all traces of scrunchiness. Except for the green one that she wore to Trader Joe's with me on Friday. It took everything I had not to say anything, like, please, can you not? Scrunchie it up? Since it was her special weekend and all. But now she's packing for her honeymoon and if that green scrunchie somehow makes it into her suitcase, I beg of you, please be kind to her. It's all she's got left of her life as a single girl.

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Doesn't it look like my family doesn't want to formally annex The Others yet? I think we're just awkward.