For instance this lovely little story.
I have never dyed my hair. Oh sure, I have had high lights put into it to bring out its natural blondness but never anything dramatic. At all.
This year, for whatever reason, the roots growing out of my head were so unusually dark. I had super blonde high lights over the summer and the mix of that with the dark roots drove me crazy. It looked like I HAD dyed my hair and I didn't want that. So I came up with a brilliant plan, I would dye my hair the color of the roots with wash out dye and then by asparagus season I would be lovely normal blonde again.
I decided to go thru with my plan on New Years Day. Nothing like doing the undone to start the new year out right!
Husband helped me pick the color. I talked with AD, who assured me it would be easy to do and fun and I'd love it and since her hair always looks nice I knew I could believe her. Husband rubbed the dye in my hair, and I have to admit it was kinda funny to hear my husband him and haw over the dye, this big burly hubby of mine whose hands could not fit into the tiny gloves. I watched the clock closely, visions of my hair turning purple or falling out of my head dancing through my thoughts. Hubby wanted to make sure that we got our seven dollars worth out of the dye so we waited a full twenty minutes to rinse. The boys kept glancing at us like I had completely lost my mind. My hair began to get a weird purply tint and Hubby told me it looked like I had shoe polish on it. I was more than ready when the time came that I held my head over the tub while hubby rinsed it out for me (which was comical. He finally just put his booted foot into the tub and rinsed it that way. But I couldn't really laugh this time either, I needed him to get the dye out and he did do a fabulous job!)
I seen the dark strand and got a little worried.
Hubby left me to the bathroom alone for me to dry it out and shock us all with a dramatic entrance out of the bathroom to show off my new locks.
Remember how we were going for just the color of my roots? Hubby had held the boxes up to the top of my head (I mean, really, I can't do such a job) and had assured me this was the correct color.
My hair was dark brown with a major red undertones.
I blow dryed it out and was a bit unsure of it. I looked like a totally different person. Completely.
I stepped out of the bathroom dramatically, with a shake of my red locks, and awaited the reaction. I could tell hubby loved it. S1 looked at me and got a concerned look that seemed pained across his face. “Don't you think it makes God mad you changed your hair color like that when he gave you blonde hair for a reason?”
I don't think he likes it.
S2 just looked at me like I had really lost my mind. He didnt say anything at all for awhile. Just yesterday he finally told me it made sense I had dyed my hair red because I am always cold and so the red meant I liked to be hot so it's a good color for me.
S3 hugged me and told me I was beautiful. He has told me I am beautiful numerous times since.
S4 does. Not. Like. it. At. All. He. is. Serious. Very. Serious. He refused to take a picture with me, refused to hug me, just gave me a disgusted look. But it seems to have worn off on him, he doesn't mention it any more and I have finally gotten him to take pictures with me again.
My silly boys. Glad they feel they can tell me how they feel. And the light in my hubby's eyes tells me that he likes it a lot. Lot lots. Which is good, because he was the beautician and if it hadn't turned out, well, it'd have been him I would have been tempted to blame. It's an evil thing to admit. But he did great, as I knew he would, because he wanted it to turn out great just as much as I did. Thanks, Hubby!