There comes a time in every woman’s life were you have to dish out a little more at the hair salon. Those grey hairs sneak up on you when you least expect. Or your hair is drier than it used to be and tangles like you wouldn’t believe and there could be, just could be, birds living back there in that nest.
I’m sure this is how Barbie feels every few months in our household. She goes to bed all glamorous and wakes up scaring her little sister Chelsea. Barbie then, like the rest of us has to make an appointment at the hair salon, her salon being my kitchen table.
The salon looks a little like this: a towel to protect the finish on my table and to absorb the water, a towel for (all the) Barbie(s) to lay on afterward while her hair dries, (Hey, maybe this is a spa.) a hair brush, and a bowl of hot water with a drop of hair conditioner in it.