STYLIN'

Sweet Neighbor Girl has decided she’s going to do the impossible and become my personal stylist.  Since school got out, she’s come over once a week to relax my frizzy hair with my hot iron, which I don’t have the patience or skill to use, and she’s actually quite good at it. Even Big Bore is amazed how she can turn my Cousin Itt look into something much sleeker. She is so enthusiastic about this job that she has even started wearing her official "beautician's outfit" when she's called into duty.

Last night she stayed over after the hair was done because her mom and teenaged sister were out for some driving practice.  When we were putting away the hair stuff, she took one look at my wads of jewelry in the bathroom and decided that I needed  to get my necklaces untangled and earrings paired off. 

“You need to get organized.”

Be my guest. 

Once that was done she said, “You need to get these earrings assigned to your outfits so you’ll be coordinated.” 

Outfits?  What outfits? I didn't have the heart to tell her that when one's wardrobe basically consists of sweatpants and T-shirts, it's not really necessary to coordinate. “I’m too lazy,” I said.  “I guess I need a stylist to help me.”  Ooops.

She was all too willing to volunteer for the job, which I hope she will have forgotten about by today. I would, however, like to keep her on as my go-to gal for more manageable hair since I'm also too lazy to fix it myself. She knows what she's doing, and nine-year-olds are about all I can afford on a regular basis.