Self improvement

In a reaction to the news that if I visit China I may be gender tested on the basis of my appearance I decided a bit of self improvement was in order.

The easiest quick fix....my hair. I read Milla's description of the dog scaring possibilities of home hair dye so decided to spend money on a professional job, at the hairdresser. It has taken me twenty years to find a hairdresser I trust (yes, twenty, if she ever emigrates I will have to follow her, be it to England or Ulan Bator ) and she has been nagging me gently to get rid of the grey for some time, so I took the plunge. " Go for it."

She's done a very good job and paid attention to my hair care methods....open car windows to dry hair on the way to work, maybe use fingers to brush hair at week-end, maybe not, be able to get hair ready to open door to the police with fingers due to neighbours complaining about #4 (or most recently the cat). She gently pointed out that a tomato soup colour may be a step too far initially.

I'm very pleased with the results. Homer less so, " If I'd wanted to marry some one with short hair I'd have married a man." Girl child, "You need some new clothes now." This last is a double edged sword, it means that 1. She is prepared to be seen with me in public and 2. She wants some new clothes....see previous post on taking girl child shopping for clothes.

The main problem is that now I may have to do something about my eyebrows. The hairdresser offered to wax them, and I said yes, but left quickly when she forgot. Threading seems to be out having read the memsahib. My tweezers are looking at me accusingly as I sit typing this. I am hoping that they "get lost" while I am busy. The chances of this are high as #4 is eyeing them up to hold the small bolts he took out of his highly expensive remote controlled car. To his dismay this stopped it working so he is attempting to fix it.

Clothes and teenagers...

Number one got his first ever tax rebate this morning. " Mum, MUM MUM!!!!"

"What is it oh shining light of my life and most precious first born? " (OK it was 7 in the morning on a Sunday, I was a LOT ruder.)

" I need clothes.....NOW". I asked if we could possibly delay the trip until the shops OPENED?? mmm?.....

We arrived at the shops and I asked him what he wanted, " I dunno."

" OK, what do you need?"

" I dunno"

"Please, please turn on your brain, there are only a few hung-over shop girls and us in an entire shopping centre, please....."

"mumble mumble boxers, mumble mumble." I can see his point, I have after all been washing his boxers and some of them are more delicate through age than my smalls. Off to Big W and he disappears and comes back with eight pairs of boxers, four pairs of socks, two work shirts, a pair of work shorts, one pair of jeans, one zip up jacket, a smart shirt and five t-shirts.

All this while I was distracted by a pink bra. In less time than it had taken me to look at said bra, examine it minutely, check the label, stitching, size, price, possible related bargains and colour against a mental check list he had been around all the clothing racks, made his selections, paid for them and was ready to go home.

I did check he had all the right sizes. I like this male shopping thing. Last time I took the girl child it took us over half an hour to get from the car park to the mall, what with checking her clothes were adjusted, and her hair was right and re-checking her hair, and clothes, and make-up. It then took over two hours to pick out one sodding t-shirt in that hell of all stores Supre. The music, the staff, the giggling girls. If I'd had a sharp implement with me I don't know whether it would have been them or me but it would have been one of us!

I shall take the male children shopping, and myself, the girl child can go with her giggling girl chums. I am officially a grumpy old woman.