Tiny-Small insists on looking fabulous. It’s just her inner beauty queen speaking. She was born to sparkle, apparently. So, I wasn’t surprised when she begged me to let her use the hair dryer. I set it on low and hoped for the best. Since I subscribe to the “hands on” theory of learning I figured why not?
I was kind of surprised that she thought it was important to dry her socks, but hey, I am no expert on the beauty routines of the not so rich and almost famous. Tiny-Small knows more about that at the ripe old age of three than I do at the nice young age of 38. I mean, she’s got the shiny, glitter gene and I’ve got the “I brushed my hair yesterday (I think)” gene so maybe sock drying is the latest fad in beauty culture. Maybe she is just starting a new trend.
Either way, after my trip to the salon and looking great for 12 hours I am back to my usual ways. I can’t tame this curly mess of mine no matter how many YouTube hair tutorials I watch or how many hair slicking-down styling products I purchase. I am a lost cause, at least until I win the lottery (I don’t play), or invent some gadget that goes viral and makes me rich (doubtful given my track record with mechanical objects), or grow another set of arms (probably the most likely).
This is what the beauty routines of the not so rich and almost famous look like. I use the word “almost” very loosely here, obviously. I mean, Tiny-Small is more almost famous than I am, probably because she is cute and I am more like an artist with no personal style or time to care. Fame is so hard to come by these days, especially when you are a practicing hermit covered in acrylic paint and seven types of glue pretty much every moment of your life. I probably should admit to using the term “beauty” pretty loosely here too. I mean, let’s be real, right?
If one more person over 65 tells me how lucky I am to have naturally curly hair I just might cry.