Here we are. It's the night before school starts.
Forms are not filled out. Only 2 of the three kids have new backpacks, and there's nothing planned for dinner.
We hit the ice cream social at 4, and the younger girls have their teachers and room assignments. The oldest brings home a stack of paper for us to to go through and fill out. "Check here to donate more than you should." "Check here to feel guilty." Going to the fundraiser this fall? Yes/No. Buy a sweatshirt? Cool kid? Yes/No. Cotillion? (I tell me daughter she can pretend to be a debutant. She rolls her eyes and walks away.) Chicken dinner on Wednesday for $9/head? 9x5=$45. Yeah, I guess...
We have yet to initiate the treatment.
Daddy is frustrated. How can little girls care so much about green hair, he wonders. But they do. My 12 year old has the whitest hair of anyone in her school. ...Well, she used to, anyway.
He thinks it's a right of passage. "Tell everyone you spent the summer at the pool.", he tells her, thinking that that will be enough. She's not so sure. This has happened to us before. The super blonde hair sucks up the combination of chlorinated water and copper pipes and becomes a not-at-all subtle shade of NEON GREEN.
The natural brunettes are inquisitive. "Her hair's green. What happened?", they ask, as if it's weird. Sometimes I launch into the technical explanation. Blonde hair shaft, copper pipes, chlorine, sun = green. Sometimes, I roll my eyes and say, "Oh, yeah, it is weird. I have no idea." All of this, of course, adds to my daughter's embarrassment. "It's green hair. It's normal. Shut up.", I approach, when I'm done talking about it.
It's been a great summer, and I can't believe it's over. We hit Target at 6 (I figure they're on the boycott list because of some idiot manager's bad check - and no one will be there. My plan is to take advantage of their sad position and buy up the bargains with short lines...). We pick up that last backpack and some notebook paper. It's fine.
I've promised additional tomato sauce treatments to the previously blond, but now green hair people... and it's already 8pm.
I line the little green haired dolls up in the kitchen. "Are you ready?", I ask. The middle one, with the least green in her hair (and most miles in the pool) steps forward. "I'll do it!"
I have 2 cans of tomato paste and a giant Costco Saran Wrap roll next to the sink. Towels. A camera. I begin with a warm water rinse. Totally normal. Then I slap on the tomato paste. I squeeze it into her hair, not wanting to miss a single strand. It oozes out between my fingers and I add more. It smells (like an Italian dinner), which is totally wrong for hair. I'm sure her neck is killing her, so I try to be quick. I've matted it well and get out the roll of plastic film. Around once, twice - it slides up. Uh, oh, I think. I wrap it again, lower down on her forehead, plastering the tomato paste into place. It's working. I cut the plastic and set the timer for 10 minutes.
"NEXT!", I shout and kid number one steps up. We repeat the treatment. Then number 3. They're ready and it's time to rinse and wash. The results seem impressive, but by now it's dark and I'm tired. The results will really only show tomorrow.
Finally, at 10, they're in bed and the stack of forms has made it's way back to the kitchen table. "They want $250 for the big one and $150 for each of the others. And that doesn't include the district fundraiser..."
Twas the night before school starts in Palo Alto...
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