"Hair emergency! Hair emergency!"
"What is it now?" asked Sweetie.
"Look at this hot mess!" I cried.
"Oh, yes," she said. "The bowl."
"What bowl?" I wailed.
"The bowl the hair makers pass around when they get stumped. They put it on your head and there's your haircut."
"My mother used to do that with my father," I said, "but I never expected to be subjected to the bowl myself!"
"The path to platinum fashionista status is not an easy one, grasshopper," she said.
I cringed. "I can expect more of this abuse?"
"Just click Read More," Sweetie said. "You'll see soon enough."
|Arrr! This One Was a Freebie, Matey! It's Not THAT Bad. Is it?|