Remember when I had the jacked hair? Click the title if you want to review that post. Anyway, alls well that ends well. Bon-Bon called me over the weekend, suffering a major anxiety attack.
She was going to visit the new future husband's parents in Texas, so she was wanting to look her best. The beauty expert gave her what can only be described as clown hair. Her warm brown highlights were pink. Hours before the plane took off, meeting mom for the first time, a zillion errands to run, she was a little stressed.
Also, mom only comes up to her shoulder. All of new future husband's family are short. New future husband tallys up to 5'8, Bon-Bon is 5'11 and has been kinda freaking about about the whole Cruse-Kidman effect since they were introduced. I advised her that if he loves to cook dinner and makes a huge production out of it, and she has to squat a little to kiss him - if these were the worst things she had to complain about she was way way way ahead of the game.
But now she has clown hair. I advised her of the magician who was able to fixed my jacked up hair, even though I am still mouring the loss of several inches. An amazing demonstration that there is a god who loves and looks out for us, Bob-Bon walked in the salon door between clients and the magician agreed to do her over the lunch break.
Of course, she looked fabulous afterwards. Caught her plane and went to meet the parents. And of course, the entire time she was around them she had a huge smile on her face and was on the verge of laughing. Something about a stray comment I made about her looking like a clown and his family being a bunch of carnies so they should get along great. Carnies, Bon-Bon reports, was all she could think about. She was joining a circus.
No comments:
Post a Comment