Demon Baby is very fascinated by my process for coloring my own hair.
I used to go to a salon to color my hair--P.D.B. (pre-Demon Baby). Now, I am lucky if I can sneak in there for a half-hour for a cut. Hence coloring my own hair. I usually color it very dark brown/black with occasional forays into violet streaks. However, until yesterday, Demon Baby had not been privy to my hair coloring magic.
"What the holy crap is that?" he pointed at the hair coloring box and the plastic gloves I was putting on.
"What the holy crap is hair color?"
"SEE THESE?" I lifted up the front of my hair to show him I am ALL WHITE up from (having gone prematurely gray at 22).
"HOLY CRAP! It's WHITE!"
"Yeah. And you gave me every one of those white hairs. So now I'm trying to get rid of them."
"HAIR DYE! Holy crap! What's hair dye?" (And I wish I could say I was embellishing this conversation, but I am not.)
"It makes the white go away."
"Yeah. I'm a Ninja Mama Warrior, so I am magic."
"Swee-ee-eet." (Sweet, pronounced as a three-syllable word.)
"Thanks, Demon Baby. I don't want to look like the wretched hag I feel like some days. I have to maintain my Ninja appearance."
"So what color?"
"Go for blue. I'm telling you. Blue would look swee-ee-eet."
"How about rainbow?"
"Blue. My final offer."
"Demon Baby, I am going to run away to a Ninja temple unless you leave me in peace to color my hair."
"Jesus! No need to be so crabby about it."
"Watch your mouth."
"How can I? I can't see my own mouth."
"Please. I am begging you. My hair is growing grayer by the minute."
"I'm telling you, blue would be a LOT cooler."
So if I end up one of these days with blue hair, you'll know why.
Have a craptastic day.