Mom’s meticulous nature parallels her hair coloring practices. When my Mother-in-law does my hair, she whizzes through like a frenetic chef demonstrating two a.m. Ginsu knives. She is an artist, working swiftly. After all you need mad skills to be a silk painter for the Bolshoi Theater.
Mom is an engineer, thoroughly inspecting sections for exact hair color application. She needs special gloves, her favorite battered aluminum comb, and a fine glass of aged Merlot. Behind me, she surely references tattered notebook, checking temperature, altitude and wind speed into consideration.
Questions follow. When was the last time I washed my hair? Did I deep condition? How long? Which product? Do you really want me to use this abomination of a plastic Goody comb on your hair?
I will be coloring Mom’s hair over the weekend,. Where do I fit on the continuum as hair colorist. Heh. I already know. I’d best go find my favorite comb!