My Worst Hair Day

By Chloe C., a 5th Grade student of Mr. Rojas in 2005 A personal narrative

Have you ever done something embarrassing, careless, and clever all at once? I have and it wasn’t pretty at all. I’m not even sure you want to read this “hair raising” tale – it might give you ideas. But maybe it’ll teach you a valuable lesson. It all started when I received the wonderful news that I was going to compete in my first gymnastics competition. I couldn’t believe it! Unfortunately, someone got injured, and so I got to take her place. I was very excited but even more nervous. To make matters worse, my paranoid coach Soda got me . . . wait, you’re probably wondering why my coach’s name is Soda. I would too. She’s a very eccentric person with a new outfit every day and usually a very stylish hairdo to match. Anyway, now that we got that out of the way, Soda got very worried about my hair. You see, she described the hairdo like it was Gwen Stephani at the Grammys. Wouldn’t that make you worried sick too? The morning of the dreadful yet exciting day came. Everything was as planned and it was going to be great (at least that’s what I thought). While my mom desperately tried to do my hair, I obnoxiously told her exactly how I wanted it, as if another child was in me saying, “Do this, do that!” When I couldn’t get a strand of hair out of my face, I got frustrated and left her.

I casually went into my room like everything was fine but obviously it wasn’t. I mean wouldn’t you be just a bit upset if you couldn’t get your hairdo right for your very first competition? Give me a break – this was five years ago! Anyway, while I was agonizing about the horrible error in my hair, a light bulb lit up over my head. I immediately snatched the scissors and carefully cut the dreadful strands. I slowly looked up into the mirror and thought all my hair troubles were gone. But when I glared into that cursed mirror, I didn’t see one strand gone; I saw mini bangs on top of my head. I was distraught. I was crying, not with tears of joy, but with tears of panic and despair. A million thoughts were going through my head. What will my parents say? More importantly, what will my mom say? What will my coach say? In the back of my mind, I thought the best thing to do was to turn to my loving parents. They would understand, right? So I went with my heart and walked down the hall to my parents’ room with a face of fright and bravely stepped through the door. That was one of the bravest steps I have ever taken in my life, because waiting for me through that door was a shriek of despair. My mom took one look at my hair and that’s what she did. I could write a novel about what my mom said that morning and how she reacted, but this is getting a little long, so let me wrap it up. My coach wasn’t as upset as my mom. Heck, she thought it was cute! And of course I had fun and did great at my first gymnastics meet. But it definitely was my worst hair day ever.