Dye-ing to hit the jackpot

Who invented hair coloring? I don't know, but I can tell you this, whoever it was had to be a gambling person. I know every time I go to the store and pick out that little box I roll the dice as to what's going to happen next.

I've tried them all - Clairol, Loreal, Garnier

I've tried every mixture possible - highlights, lowlights, shine, touch up

I've tried every application possible.- foam, oil , nice and easy, long and arduous.

And no matter what I try, I never get the results they show on the box.

Take tonight for example. My hair seemed to be losing it's girlish lustre so I sprang for the high price box promising a lot of shine. My hair has nice auburn highlights so I went with this box with an image of a woman with auburn highlights. It promised to give your hair several color tones...and they were right. I got several tones and all of them are red. Lucille Ball and Mrs. Weasley move over, SB just died her hair again! In fact, this is the second Harry Potter character I've emulated during one of my dying adventures. A couple years ago I thought I'd pick a little darker shade that was close to the hair color of my youth. I came out looking like a middle-aged Severus Snape.

I suspect I should be grateful. A dear SB friend of mine who I talk about in my 4-part wired but not fired blog once tried to dye her eyebrows the same color as her newly dyed hair (and yes, the box does tell you never to do this). She may have pulled it off if it weren't for the phone call she got during the process - which made her miss the timer she set telling her when to wash it off. The immense burning sensation above her eyes finally alerted her. The next day she came to work with no eyebrows. Well, that's not entirely true. They were drawn in but the pencil she used certainly did not match her hair color.

I never was much of a gambler. Maybe it would be cheaper to buy a bunch of hats.

My son was framed

In the world of stories honoring great mom's that are coming out just in time for Mother's Day ---this ain't one of them.

It goes like this: We had a big family event last weekend so I did the deep clean on the apartment and found many objects I hadn't seen for a while. One such object was my steaming pile of fake dog poo. This fake poo (in college days named the 'fake shit') gave us countless hours of fun at my dorm as my roommate and I found unique hiding places for other dorm-mates to discover it.

Being the great mom I am, I share this story with my soon-to-be 12 year old son. He says, "Let's you and I hide the poo on each other for laughs." I say, "Sure son, why not." So the poo starts its second life as an object of amusement.

I find it in my panties drawer.

He pours it out into his cereal bowl.

I discover it under my pillow...you get the picture.

So one morning he says to me, "Have you hid the fake poo yet mom?" I tell him I've been a little busy lately and when I see the disappointed look on his face I promise to hide it soon. Being the great mom I am, I carefully avoid putting it in his school backpack in case he doesn't see it and it makes its way into the elementary school.

Aha, his cargo pants! What a fun hiding place. I secretly put it in his front pocket. It's a sizable pile of poo. He's bound to feel it there when he gets dressed.

Pleased that the deed is done, I go to bed.

Fast forward to the end of the next work day. I drive to my child care to pick up the boys and on our ride home Alex forlornly says he has something bad to tell me. I, being the great mom I am, put on my serious face and say in a motherly tone, "What happened?"

He responds, "I'm really sorry mom but the Vice Principal took your fake poo. I found it when I was in the cafeteria and, well, kind of chucked it at somebody." (At this point I am very quiet in the front seat of the car). "I told her it was a joke you and I play on each other. She didn't laugh but the school secretary thought it was funny. I ended up having to sweep the lunchroom but, I didn't mind, it was worth it."

Yes, being the immature mom I am, I got my own son in trouble in school. I told Al it wasn't his fault and then found the VP by the buses the next day and took the rap for it. I never did get my beloved college days fake poo back.

What have my son and I learned from this you ask? Well, we learned three things:

1. Never assume your child will find the fake poo before getting to school.

2. Never take the fake poo out of your pocket if you find it there in school.

3. From now on, hide the fake plastic ant - it's much harder for the Vice Principal to see.