The Incredible Sulk

I dyed my hair AGAIN!!!
And this time I'm going brunette. You see, it started Tuesday morning when my dad had to take Gabe and Jesse to school. I'd been begging for the past week for a time when I could go to the co-op in town to grab some henna in auburn. My roots had grown out a lot, leaving this big, dirty blond stripe in the middle of my reddish-gold curls. So when we got to the co-op, I flocked to the hair care section and was extremely disappointed to see that they didn't carry auburn henna at the time. I looked at the other shelf, though and they sold Dark Brunette henna. This proceeded to remind me that I'd been contemplating whether or not to go brunette or not. So, instead of buying auburn another time, I simply got dark brunette.
Once we were back at the house I was eager to get on with the process, so I pored over the instructions, making sure not to miss a single detail. It was all ready to go in about an hour and a half. Mom spread the mushy glop all over my hair. I think I had it a bit too runny, though, because it was dripping all over me and the floor. My pink shirt was ruined.
I had to wear a plastic IGA bag on my head for an hour while the henna worked its magic. I smelled like dirt and I had to keep wiping drips of wet henna off my face, but eventually it was over and I showered and rinsed off.
I loved the dark brunette. I thought, as I gazed in the mirror, that it made my eyes look bluer and my teeth whiter. Dakota brought us to Subway for dinner and then we got ready for meeting.
I felt like a million bucks walking into the Kingdom Hall wearing a red turtleneck sleevless shirt, a black skirt with white polka-dots, and my mom's new black sandals. I immediately went to my friends for their opinions. I cornered Nanner next to the magazine counter and asked;
"Well, how do you like it?"
"Am I the first one you asked?" she said, pinching her eyebrows together and glancing over her shoulder.
"Yes," I said, impatient.
"I don't want to be the first one!" she said.
My heart fell, but I held my smirk. "You don't like it, do you?"
She shook her head and shrugged.
"Rewative," I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes. 'Rewative' is my word jumble for 'whatver'.
Next I hung by Shelby, waiting for her to comment first. She didn't say anything for a long time, so I finally mentioned casually; "My hair is darker,"
She narrowed her eyes, grabbing a couple of my locks. "Oh! I just noticed." and then her expression changed. "Oh my gosh!" she cried, her hands flying to her mouth. "It's green!"
My stomach lurched. "What?"
"Your hair!" she cried. "It's green!"
I must have been shaking my head because she turned to her mother. "Mom," she said, gesturing to me. "Isn't Cheyenne's hair green?" Kelly narrowed her eyes, studying me.
"Well it's not really GREEN," she drawled. I heaved a sigh of relief. But Kelly wasn't finished. "It's more like avacado."
"Oh, great," I mumbled, tearing away from the two to check out my 'do in the girls' room. I stood myself in front of the mirror and studied my newly died waves.
They had been right. In the dim light of my house, I hadn't been able to tell the color of my hair. In the bright, harsh lighting of the kingdom hall I looked like I was wearing Oscar the Grouch on my head.
"You should really dye your hair a couple of days before the meeting next time," Shelby suggested after the program was over. It was all I could do not to pummel her into the ground and run sobbing to my vehicle. I just held a fake smile and told her that it was a lovely idea.
"It'll fade," I convinced myself. And it did. Today is Friday, and my hair is, thankfully, just a dark brown with copper highlights. I'm glad the whole ordeal is over. But, still, every now and then my mom likes to tease me about it. Like for example, when I mentioned to her that If I ate one more piece of celery I might turn green and she promptly said; "To match your hair?"
I'm going to laugh that day when she looks in the mirror, only to discover that I've shaved her bald. Heck, I'm already laughing.