The Hubs has been otherwise engaged, so I've been pretty much left to my own devices lately. And this happened to include the getting to become rather too regular for comfort root-touch-up at the weekend.
[Ah...didn't I already say...? That along with being particularly skilled at turning the roughest piece of wood into a thing of beauty, the Hubs is also a bit clever in the hairdressing department]?
Anyway... forget about the nicely-(calmly)-worded leaflet that comes with detachable gloves/plastic hat. Here's what REALLY happened:
1. Locate oldest, pre-'use-by'-date-stamped (thereby possibly prehistoric) box of 'Vibrant Reubenesque' and marvel at beautiful image of pouting (albeit Cyclops-ed) redhead on box.
2. Want some of that. Desperately. Esp. recently. And she looks so 'together'... Well, doesn't she? I bet she doesn't tremble when faced with a steering wheel, gearknob and a 40 minute drive to work.
Anyway...
3. Starting at the roots, perform almost impossible feat of manoeuvre with pointy-end of plastic comb, parting hair along the scalp to reveal (worryingly silver) roots.
4. Ignore funny fizzing noise emitting from just-shaken bottle of colour-creme combo. Maybe Hubs never mentions this because it's entirely normal. Convince self of normality of even louder fizzing noise.
5. Daub inconsistent meandering length of 'Vibrant Reubenesque' along said parting and squint worriedly into bathroom mirror. Ignore purpley colour. Again, probably completely normal.
Repeat.
A lot.
In fact over entire headspace.
6. Do what instructions say and relax whilst colour gets to work. No mention of still-fizzing bottle which also 'cracks' when you squeeze it.
Still relaxing. Kind of.
Albeit with mad-staring eyes in bathroom mirror.
7. To take mind off of strange noises and dubious colour of hair, wipe gloopy mess from ears, neck, chin, nose, bath, sink, windowsill, basin and windowframe (don't ask) and manage to turn nice cream bathmat into underfoot Dalmation-pelt feature.
Persuade self of intention to do this all along. Bathmat was dull anyway Cream is SO last year.
8. Squint even closer at blacky-purple hair roots and begin to sweat profusely.
9. Sweat some more. It's good for you. And increased heart-rates are all the rage right now. This is cardio-vascular. Breathe in. And out. Enjoy the moment.
10. Check instructions and feign understanding.
11. Sweat even harder.
12. In one seamless movement fling head manically over bath, spotifying all over-bath wall tiles, swipe shower-head from stand and eradicate worryingly fizzy, black concoction from head until all that remains is a decidedly orange scalp where the first lengths of colour were squirted.
Nobody's going to notice the spots in the bathroom. If I refuse to allow anybody in it.
13. Fire up computer, enter 'Funky hats' on EBay Women's Clothing search bar and...relax...
Not.
7 comments:
Yeah. See this is why I never dye my hair on my own at home anymore. Ever!
Oh Debs, you do make me laugh and imagine having a husband who can do things with wood AND hair? HOnestly, some women have it all...Fx
I have tried so many times with these root touch-ups and failed miserably. Now I give up and go to the hairdresser.
So funny. I'd have been concerned about the fizzing and the cracking too!
And I bet that floozie on the box can't even drive - not with just the half an eye she has anyway:-).
You are so effing funny, Debs! And I agree with Fio- your hubby HELPS you with your roots? JC Almighty, nail his shoes to the floor!
Thanks ladies - wasn't funny at the time, but KNEW it'd make somebody smile somewhere!
p.s. DON'T try this at home!
p.p.s Yes, Hubs IS a bit clever, isn't he?
Hilarious!
I daren't imagine the damage I'd do to a bathroom if I tried to do the same thing. I definitely have let my hairdresser do any colour changes to my hair.
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