Our daughter said, “I’ve got my skull cap in the car, would you pull my hair through it. I want some sun streaks for summer.”
“No problem. Of course I will do it. Keep it in the car and I’ll do it for you when we get together.”
It proved to be a long and memorable night, not one I want to do again.
It was NASCAR night when we got together. We ate, the guys hunkered down to watch the car race, dishes were done and it was eight o’clock when we set up the beauty shop in the kitchen.
The light was dim and I complained. “I can’t see the holes to pull the hair through the cap. Let’s move outside. It’s lighter on the porch.”
We moved the beauty shop to the porch.
I had pulled a few hairs through the holes when I started to feel faint. My daughter has me on an all-protein diet. I needed to sit down. I pulled up a chair.
Allison waited patiently under the cap and towel. I pulled a few more strands of hair through the cap and said, “I think it is the brownie, I am having a sugar attack.”
“You ate a brownie?” My daughter, who has been faithful on the diet, said, “I can’t believe you would eat a brownie. Your body was eating its fat, now you have to start all over again.”
“I just ate one brownie. I haven’t had any sweets for two weeks.”
“How could you have eaten the brownie? You blew it.”
I needed to lie down.
I asked my friend, Gloria, to help with Allison’s hair. Then I called my other daughter to help out. “I have a crochet hook you could use. I’ll get it.”
The process began again. Two were working on her hair.
It was getting darker. Someone suggested that we should move off the porch into the road, so we would have more light by the moon. I was feeling better. Now there were three working on her.
Her hair was lopsided. We changed places.
The race finished, and the men moved their chairs into the road to join us. One sang “By the Light of the Silvery Moon,” another ate cherries and the other looked for the bear who visits nightly.
It became a redneck family affair.
My son-in-law suggested we should use his hunting caps with the nightlights under the visors. Gloria and our one daughter put on the hunting caps.
Allison was still under the cap with the holes saying, “Mother, I can’t believe you ate the brownie.”
I said, “I have to get the camera, people will not believe this.”
It was eleven o’clock before the hair had been pulled through. The color would take another 45 minutes. We had extra solution.
My other daughter said, “I would like a few sun streaks.”
“I’d like a few too, and run a few through your Dad’s hair while you are doing it.”
Allison pulled off the towel and started working on the rest of the family. It was midnight.
This Cinderella was about to turn into the ugly stepmother. “I’ve got to go. I’ll wash my hair when I get home.”
We got carried away under the moonlight.
Allison, now totally blond, and always the optimist said, “I will just have to have more fun.”
I said, “I can’t handle much more fun.”
Her husband said, “Wow! I love it.”
Her son kept saying to his mother, “You’re really, really blonde.”
Final brushstroke: The price of sun streaks for the whole family? $7.95. The brownie? Not worth it. Should you try this at home? Only if you have a sense of humor and want to have more fun. The experience? Priceless.
Send your comments to firstname.lastname@example.org. We love to hear from you. My latest work, “Spirit of the Red Candle, Journal of Mary Magdalene,” is now available in e-book, paperback and hard cover. Go to Lulu.Com. Type in Betty Slade.