(First written April 2019)

This post contains mild swearing, elements of anger directed at a small minority of our feathered friends, lots of digression, and some 1970s parenting hilarity! If any of this is likely to offend you, scroll on by!

The story starts with me in the shower watching the copious amounts of pigeon shit flow through the water at my feet and down the plughole. It must have been a giant pigeon, the amount that went down; like remnants of a chocolate sponge pudding when washing the dishes after a jolly nice dinner, though I can’t remember a time when a) there were remnants of a chocolate pudding or b) when I washed the dishes, but you get my drift.

One of the striking things about me is my hair. It’s very thick and there’s a lot of it.

Now, I don’t know any different so to me it’s just my hair but it seems to generate interest, particularly in the hairdressing community who like to comment on its thickness, as if I didn’t know….”ooh, it’s very thick isn’t it?” Perhaps when I was young, I didn’t realise it was what hairdressers called ‘thick’ but believe me, now I’ve reached middle age, “I KNOW MY HAIR IS THICK”.

Ever since I’ve been old enough to take responsibility for washing my own hair, rather than it being done to me….oh, memories of leaning over the bath with a flannel over my face to stop the water and shampoo going in my eyes…Mum using a plastic jug until we could afford one of those posh shower jobbies that attached to the taps in your bath. Happy days, until the water came through so fast that the bugger jumped off the taps and water squirted everywhere. Not a happy mummy. I remember the day I learned the word ‘shit’!!

Anyway, when I started washing my own hair, I learned that one of the benefits of my thick hair is that it only needs washing once a week. Yup, my name is Wendy and I only wash my hair once a week.

The other benefit of having thick hair, which I learned today, is that it does a great job of covering up pigeon poo! It sank so far in, I don’t think you’d have been able to see it from space. However, maybe that’s why the bloomin pigeon kept on going…he couldn’t see the success of his aim so kept firing.

You notice how the pigeon is a man? Sorry to all my male friends and family…it could, of course, have been a female pigeon but I’m not convinced….you know, boys and poo, and bums and farts and things, they just can’t leave it alone!

There’s a couple of down sides though. One, which I learned today – it’s not so good at disguising the smell of pigeon poo; the aroma seems to cling to each and every strand like a high quality reed diffuser but without the Jo Malone English pear and freesia scent.

So I spent a lot of time being stopped by people asking what the cloud of yellowish-brownish steam was coming from the top of my head and, ooh, as they got closer, turning their noses up and retching. Yep, they could smell it! I tried to reassure them that it was just pigeon poo – “it’s good luck you know”…”no, no, it’s not my poor hygiene habits, I can assure you I wash my hair daily”.

But, alas, I think I may have lost some opportunities for new friendships today (recollections of another post!)

The other down side of my thick hair is that after washing, it is not fit for public viewing until at least 12 hours and a night’s sleep afterwards. Why? I’m not sure of the science, but my hair seems to do some kind of expansion thing after washing and, especially if I go outside, it doubles in size and the frizz on it could fill enough cushions to stock John Lewis for the next month. (Please don’t send me suggestions of how to tame it…remember, I’m middle aged and I know my hair by now. I know what it needs – a time out!)

So, as a result of this pigeon, his Easter weekend antics and the uniqueness of my locks, my day took a different turn and my lovely friend copped it. We’d agreed to go on a walk. We do this as often as we can…for fresh air, exercise and a general catch up on life. But today, I had to cancel. And, I needed to tell her why, so I did. We’ve known each other a few years but I’m sure she thinks I’m a little crazy. I mean, who says the pigeon did it when needing to cancel a meet-up?! But, we’ve got enough on each other now, that we’ll have to be friends forever!

Happy Easter everyone and watch out for those pigeons, their shit stinks!

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