So I did the right thing.<\/p>\n
And I\u00a0wasn’t<\/em> happy about it. At all<\/span>. I was actually a pretty big punk about the whole thing.<\/p>\n We were painting a barn that day. Remember, it was June. It was a hot June, too. My friend and I had plans to dye my hair red that night and decided we may as well get a head start with the red barn paint. After one of our leaders assured us it was water-based paint (guys, barn paint is NOT water-based) my 16-year-old brain decided it would be brilliant to paint my head.<\/p>\n (Spoiler alert: Red paint + hours in the sun = BAD IDEA!)<\/em><\/p>\n I came home to shower and, to my complete\u00a0dismay, the paint didn’t come out. Well, pieces of it did, and it looked awful. I refused to let my parents take pictures that night, and I’m kind of wishing now that they had, just so I could show you how truly<\/em>\u00a0awful<\/em> it looked.<\/p>\n AWFUL<\/strong>.<\/p>\n The misery had only just begun.<\/p>\n I went to a dance that night with red paint splotching my head in a way that could only be described as post-modern grunge… All plans to dye my hair that night went out the window. I had to figure out how to get the\u00a0paint out of my hair..<\/p>\n So I went home to some very-not-pleased parents. Despite their frustration with me, they were willing to help figure out a solution my mess.<\/p>\n They tried rubbing alcohol first, I think. Something… anything<\/em>\u00a0to break up the paint. They\u00a0tried paint thinner, too. No such luck.<\/p>\n Lighter fluid finally did the trick, but it wasn’t easy. No, lighter fluid was just enough to loosen up the paint to the point that it could be pulled out of my hair strand by strand.<\/p>\n My hair at the time was quite thick and quite long. I’m also\u00a0extremely\u00a0<\/em>tender headed. This was – BY FAR<\/strong> – the most pain I’d EVER experienced. (Even to this day, I think it’s the most pain I’ve experienced. I’ve even given birth without medication. I’d repeat labor. I would NOT repeat this hair moment…)<\/p>\n Anyway, back to the story.<\/p>\n My wonderful parents spent\u00a0hours\u00a0<\/em>pulling paint out of my hair, strand by strand. I flung tears off my face. Big, huge, dragon tears. I couldn’t do anything but sit there, completely defeated and in excruciating pain, despite my parents’ gentle methodical hands.<\/p>\n To this day, I’ve never dyed my hair.<\/p>\n The curse went on for a while. There was a car accident involved, and a late-night bonfire.\u00a0I’m not a big believer in actual curses, but there was something eerie about those few months.\u00a0My parents even got to the point that they were half-joking-half-serious about making me stay in on the Saturday before the third Sunday.<\/p>\n
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