So I mentioned my Loreal 7BB hair dye addiction yesterday (http://wp.me/p1Auii-33), and told you there was a story there.
In truth, the label “story” might be a stretch. It is more like narrative proof that I am surrounded by people smarter than me, in this case my sister.
The background to the “story” is that a few of my hairs started to turn grey soon after I began having children (coincidence, I am sure), and that until S was born I was on an eternal quest to find a hair dye that would match my original color. By the time she arrived, I had tried so many shades of “ash brown” dye that I had lost all sense of what my hair was actually supposed to look like.
Enter S whose shade I immediately recognized as my own. Hallelujah! I finally had a plan! I would take S to Target, and hold her fuzzy newborn head up to all the hair dye boxes to make a match. She was only a few months old, but had plenty of hair to discern the shade. I distinctly remember E making a tower of hair dye boxes while S and I went about our task, and several shoppers passing non-verbal judgment on my allowing E to destroy aisle 12. (“Whatever”, I thought, “she’s happy and before I leave I am going to put all the boxes right back…”)
It was only after we completed our task (turns out I am Loreal 7BB: Dark Beige Blonde! Who knew I was technically a blonde?!?! Thank God for progeny)…Anyway, it was only after I had (1) completed my task (2) cleaned up after E, and (3) called my sister to tell her both about my accomplishment and about E’s big hairy towers, that I realized what was actually happening in those other shoppers’ minds.
A recap of the conclusion of our conversation:
Me: “….So that’s how I found the perfect shade of hair dye! I’ll be my natural (can you believe it, I’m technically a blonde!) color again in no time! And maybe unrecognizable to all the women judging me on Target aisle 12!”
Sister: “You know they were not judging you for letting E play with the boxes, right?”
Sister: “They weren’t staring because of E’s towers. You do know that, right?”
Sister: “OK. Let me say it straight out. You do realize that everyone who saw you holding S up to those boxes probably thought you were planning to dye the baby’s hair…”
Me: [stunned silence]
Sister: [matching silence…credit her for not inserting a blonde joke here]
Me: “Wow. You are 100% right. It’s like all my interactions during the last hour just now came into focus, and all those nasty looks suddenly make complete sense. But I’m amazed; no one said anything!”
Sister: “No on said anything to you. I’d get your story straight in case one of them got your license plate number and is planning to give child services a call.”
There is a happy ending, as child services never came calling, and Loreal 7BB has truly been a perfect match. But I imagine somewhere out there, there are mothers who still think of me when they recall the worst mommying moments they [think they] have ever witnessed: me deciding my baby’s precious fuzzy hair should be an alternate color, and then purchasing chemicals to rub on her three month old head!