When one stays home with her children, one learns valuable lessons that one would never have learned out in the workplace. For instance, today I learned that spinach + ham + applesauce = shit that smells like a perm.
The smell of a perm arising from the poop of Gabby’s butt has brought back a flood of memories.
Permenant wave, memories.
I was only 12 years old the first time I was allowed the honor of having my hair wrapped up in rows of curlers and doused with horrific smelling chemicals with the promise of “permanently wavy” hair.
It took hours, but when it was finished, OH MY GOD, I looked so HOT. At least I thought I did. I remember that day in vivid detail. Lucky for you, I’ll spare you most of those details, but let’s just say, when my cousin was done administering The Perm, my shit no longer stank.
I left that mobile home park thinking I was the most beautiful girl that ever lived and I could not fucking WAIT to get home and show off my perm to the neighborhood gang (A.K.A Joe the mentally retarded boy, Brandy the girl with the mole on her lip, Rhonda the slut and Jimmy the boy who made me feel funny down there.)
The minute we arrived back home, I went running to find The Gang so I could brag about how hot I looked and brag.I.Did. I was a total bitch about it. “Look at my beautiful hair, Brandy! I bet you wish your hair looked this beautiful! Too bad it doesn’t!” And so on, and so forth.
This is where my memory gets a little fuzzy. All I remember is one minute I’m bragging to Brandy about my perm, the next minute… STRAWBERRY FUCKING MILK IS ALL UP IN MY FRESHLY PERMED HAIR!!
I started screaming and crying because, you’re not supposed to wash your hair for 48 hours! I ran home to my mom, washed my hair and watched my dreams of PERMANENTLY WAVED HAIR go down the drain.
Ah, the memories a little baby shit can stir up.
God, I LOVED that perm, all two hours of it.
unlike you, i never wanted permed hair but my mother thought i NEEDED one. apparently there was something wrong with just having straight hair. so from about 3rd grade to 5th grade, my hair was always permed. and i always hated it. and omg did they STINK.
to this day, my mom still curls her hair every day, and i almost never curl mine. of course, that might also have something to do with the time she burned me with the curling iron, and the huge 80s bangs she also made me wear.
The last perm I got was about 10 years ago. I remember getting there about 10:00am and not leaving until about 4:00pm. That was it for me. These days my hairs lucky if it even gets brushed.
I’ve given many perms but never had the need. Kinda makes sense that it would be that kind of memory you associated ‘gabby poop’ with, though. Yuck. Guess she can’t have that combo of goodies again.
Ah the memories. My first perm traumatized me. Ya see, I have auburn hair. When I was little there was a lot more red in it. My mom thought it would be cute for me to get a little “Annie” perm when I was in kindergarden. That was the year I was known as “Little Orphan Annie”. Everywhere I went I was asked to sing “Tomorrow.” But the worst thing happened in bible school. We were having an award ceremony and I was the last to be called. When they got to me they said “And our own Little Orphan Annie…” People laughed because they thought it was so cute. It took years for me to finally admit that my middle name is Anne for fear that the nickname would stick.
I’m still not quite over that.