Wednesday was shopping day at the Mansion. The Pony has been volunteering to brave the wilds of The Devil's Playground for me. Who am I to look a volunteer Pony in the mouth? Especially now that masks have been mandated by The Devil. Don't get me started!
Anyhoo... I made a list. Made sure The Pony understood the nuances of brands and sizes and counts. I even brought out a box of L'Oreal hair color for my lovely lady-mullet. I still have one, but will be using it soon, and like to keep one on hand. Just in case, you know, there's something like a pandemic that requires us not to leave our homes. I KNOW! Such an imagination I have...
Anyhoo... I stood behind the short couch, showing The Pony the box, right before we left.
"See? This one. The medium brown. I know I used to get dark brown, but that's too severe now. I might even go a lighter shade soon. So see this one? The lady's face?"
"Mother. I can read 'medium brown.' I'm not an idiot."
"Just showing you, because that's how you used to get it. I'd send you to that aisle, and you'd be back before I thought you'd left. You honed in on the face. Even told me yourself that's how you found it. So I'm showing you."
"Mom. That was before I could read! So of course that's how I found it."
"Okay. Just trying to help."
"It's L'Oreal, right?"
"Yes."
Off we went. I dropped off The Pony at the one entrance that's open now, to wend his way through the cattle chute to the door. Don't get me started! Then I drove to the School-Turn Casey's for scratchers. ALL LOSERS! Then back to sit 25 minutes at 86 degrees (95 heat index) to await The Pony's return. He's a good helper, that Pony.
Once home, my little beast of burden carried everything inside the Mansion, and put most of it away. Except for his 3 bottles of wine. And my hair color.
"Oh, Mom. Here's the one I got. That's it, right?"
IT WAS NOT! IT WAS A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT LADY! And L'Oreal CREME.
"That's not her! You got a different lady! I don't use that kind."
"It says right here: MEDIUM BROWN!"
"I've tried that kind before, and I don't like it. But I guess I'll use it. I'll use it first. Then if it messes up my hair, I'll still have the REAL one left to try and correct it."
That Pony. He's been gone so long, he doesn't even remember my face.
MY son, when asked many years ago, what hair dye color suited me, said, "White."
ReplyDeleteAt least The Pony tried to help...
Next time, send him in with the empty box front, not the whole box, just the front with the face and the product name. It's what I do if the ex sends a text that says "going to the shop, need anything?", only difference is I have to be specific about how many otherwise he'll buy a dozen or however many are on the shelf.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteWHITE! That gave me a laugh! Kind of a cross between Muttley, and Teddy Duchamp in "Stand By Me."
***
River,
I should have had him take a picture of the box as a reference. He's never without that phone glued to his face. He was so dismissive, though, saying he knew how to READ a label!