To My Wonderful Family, Who Can't Read Purple On Black

I changed the colors once again at the request of MaMaw and Aunt GiGi. If you can't read the yellow on black, let me know, but if you can't read it chances are you don't know that I just said that.

Funny story, today, MaMaw almost lost her blue comb. Yes, the blue comb she's been using since she was my age, along with that orange brush. Apparently, combs are not allowed into the district attorneys office for fear that they may be used as weapons. As a child who's life was touched by the comb, I might be able to agree with this assumption. Many very poofy hairstyles resulted from the combination of these items being used on my, and my cousin's, and some of my friends' hair.

We all know that if either of these styling items were to be lost permenantly, MaMaw would never again have presentable hair, and the loss might be taken as a serious tragedy among those of us who have had experiences with the brush and comb. Many of my childhood hairstyles were enhanced by the magic teasing ability of the orange pointy brush, which apparently, you can't buy anywhere anymore. Someday, when I am in my sixties, I hope to be styling the hair of my own grandchildren with the orange brush and blue comb. I might throw in a curling iron covered in hairspray, just for kicks.

Good memories

(I wish I had a picture to enlighten those of you who do not know about these tools)