I listened carefully to Maria’s good advice. “You want to use old towels. Rubber gloves,” she said. “Don’t get it on your skin.”
All of this sounded very sensible of course, and easy when Maria is doing it. I kept nodding. Yes. Yes. No problem.
But of course it’s quite a different matter managing things at home. A dollop ended up on the temple of my glasses. Noticed a mysterious pink spot on my calf yesterday.
Is it Paul Mitchell? Or a bruise? Only my hairdresser knows for sure. Paul Mitchell I’m guessing.
I press into service the towels I usually use to wipe the dogs’ feet. And try to stand really
still and not do anything while the pink goop does its thing. Generally I always try to do two things at once, but use great self-discipline to avoid folding the clean clothes and risk getting PINK on the beautiful white Dior nightgown I got at Pip’s consignment store–$16, imagine!
Finally, thought I was pinked up enough to head to New York for Jessamyn’s birthday….