Several fine ladies have written about their lifelong battles with bangs (hairstyles, not explosions, although some of the pictures can make you wonder), but I think I have a story to top them all.I did a company TV broadcast yesterday, and my bangs were sufficiently difficult that the professional hair and makeup artist couldn't do anything but hairspray them back into the rest of my hair. That's style for you!
In a slightly more promising tale, this morning, I opened a drawer and asked Q to get my green sweater, mostly to keep him occupied while I was getting dressed. He said, "No green."
I figured he was just too busy trying to open a bottle of lotion, so I picked it up myself and started to put it on.
"No green, mama!" He pulled my pink striped sweater out of the drawer and ran over to hand it to me. My, my, I already have a fashion editor.
3 comments:
That's hilarious! Bryce never had a preference about clothes, but when Quinn was 2, he got VERY particular about what he was wearing.
Crack me up! Ian doesn't care yet about me, but he has to wear a red and a green sock. The days they are dirty, look out, there will be tears.
And today he decided I should wear green. Maybe I won't have to shop in the future - he'll take care of it for me?
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