Thank You, Tiny Baby Jesus

For making me change my mind and walk upstairs to plug in the Flat Iron that I had told my daughter to. For making me stand right there as I plugged it in and not leaving until it had warmed up like I normally do. For keeping me calm and collected as the Flat Iron burst into flames in my hand. Thank you for the clarity to blow it out and unplug it from the wall before my knees started to shake.

Thank you for the smile that I forced when I told my daughter I could not Hot Iron her hair today before school - BEFORE THE DANCE - because it had caught fire, but I would do my best to blow dry it straight for her. Thank you for not allowing the Flat Iron a few more minutes and possibly igniting my daughter's head. Thank you for reminding me that my life is good and I should be thankful at all times.

Thank you.