Redhead Renovation

Okay, so here's a story more in keeping with Write Night stories. I returned to the studio from school, where I had to meet with students for the final exam. When I walked into the studio, Mom, Dad, Jonathon, and Wes were sitting around a table, taking a break. I joined them, oohing and aahing over their progress. My eyes slid around the table as I smiled at everyone. My eyes slid past my mom, then stalled, and returned. She looked different. I studied her while keeping a smile in place, not wanting to alert anyone's attention until I figured out what was different.

"Her hair," I thought. "Something's different there." I couldn't figure out what though. Suddenly, I realized it had a reddish tinge. "What's up with that?" I wondered, studying her hair more closely.

"What?" she asked as she caught me staring.

"Your hair has a reddish tint," I said, my forehead wrinkled as I moved closer. "It looks good though." The red, however, didn't cover her head; it just occupied one large area.

"I colored her hair," my dad offered, pointing to his chalkline.

Mom grinned and agreed, "Your dad was on the ladder and gave me the bottom of the chalkline to hold. When he snapped it, it dusted my hair with red chalk. I tried to brush it out, but I ended up smoothing it around."

"Thank God she has a sense of humor," I thought, "and thank God I wasn't here for that scene."

Jonathon spoke up, "I noticed it, but didn't want to say anything." Wes added that he had the same reaction, both of them apparently silently agreeing not to attract anyone's attention to it.

The color was actually kind of cool, giving my mom a slightly punk appearance. That's my mom--the slightly punk missionary carptenter. And that's my renovation story.