Warning: Do not cook in that wig!

My new hair had been to church on Sunday and received my friends' blessings. Now it was time to introduce it to my work friends. The nice thing about starting before dawn is that by the time most people arrive at "normal" hours, I'm already at my station. I didn't have to walk past a group in the hallway and look back to see if they had stunned looks on their faces. I have to say I was nervous about it. A few weeks back, I'd had hair; then a hat; now more hair than usually sprouts on a human head.

My first encounter was in the lunchroom when I went to make coffee and three women who also gather to get the coffee started looked up when I walked in and all of them said they loved my hair. The style. The color. You don't think it looks too wiggy? Oh no. It looks very natural. Okay. That's good.

Back at my computer, I was working away when my boss and our VP of HR ducked their heads in and exclaimed they loved it! "Better than your own hair!" Where had I heard that before? I continued my survey, "doesn't look too wiggy?" Not at all.

Tim, one of our editorial directors, who checks on me daily and points me to the door if I've stayed too long, confirmed. Like it! Not wiggy.

Surely, there would be at least one response of "maybe just a little". Nope. Swanny, one of our sales reps, a fun hail-fellow-well-met kind of guy with a booming voice, stopped by. "Hey, I like your hair! Better than your real hair."

Ok, ok. Now to me, it still looked a tad wiggy. I mean whose hair puffs that high on the crown of their head. I wouldn't be surprised if I was pulled aside in the airport security line and grilled: Okay, lady, what are you hiding under that hair? An assault weapon? Plastique? A lotion tube larger than 3 oz.? Hmn, that last one might just work.

I have to say, come the afternoon, when the building heat rises anyway, I was boiling. My own body heat was all trapped under that thing that didn't look wiggy. I could feel the perspiration. Wow, is it hot in here or is it just me?

First thing I do when I walk through the door at home is whip off the muskrat, put it on its stand and stick my head in the freezer for a few minutes. It's a good practice anyway. If I ever forget to take it off and stand over a pan of boiling water, or open the door to a hot oven, it will melt. That's right, melt.

Are you getting the same image I got? Mrs. Doubtfire. Oooohhhh nooooo, boys and girls. I don't even want to guess what a melted wig looks like or how warm that would be on my head!