"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."- Andy dyes Bee's hair. Bee nearly dies.

Bee got served by a mummy!

I went to JEWEL (grocery store) with little niece Natalia today because my mom still has the shingles and supposedly can barely move therefore cannot make me my dinner! Personally, I think she's faking it. Yes, I know the pharmacist gave me the third degree when I went to go pick up her Gebnumbsyourbrainatin (spelling?). He asked me if I had ever taken that medication before and then shined a light in my eyes. After I explained my mom had shingles he raised his hands (as if to say 'stay away from me, short sweaty girl) and said "Ohhhh! That is very painful!" then he took my hundred dollars and ran back into the alley. Where was I? Oh right! Jewel.

My cooking expertise has been exhausted since I made a pot roast on Wednesday so I was trying to plan a meal by the seat of my pants. No recipe, no safety net. As I was walking around aimlessly with my 6 year old know it all, I thought "hmmm how about some sandwiches?" (because I don't eat those enough). I went to the deli and grabbed one of those number things because people are vicious at the deli. Seriously. We can find people of all walks of life and bitchiness at the deli.

All of a sudden I hear "NUMBER 55!! NUMBER 55!!" I jumped up and waved my number in the air. Me! That's me! And kinda did an 'in your face' type of dance to the man with number 56 (how about not stopping at the sample section buddy!). This cranky old lady came to stand in front of me and waited silently for me to direct the next 3 minutes of her life. Well, she was really old and slow so it would probably be more like 10 minutes.

I innocently asked for "Sarah Lee Brown Sugar Ham". How dare I? Did I not know they had STOPPED PRODUCTION of this ham over a YEAR AGO??

Ummm, while I do like to keep up to date with the cured and processed meat industry, I leave that for special occasions. Like when I'm comatose drooling onto my pillow or Tazz. Whichever is closest.

So I reasonably ask "well, is there anything similar you have in stock?"

"THE KRAUKAS THAT'S RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE!"

The fuck? Did I step on her oxygen line by mistake?

Normally, if I wasn't trying to be a role model-ish type of person for my 6 year old niece, I would have jumped over the counter... okay maybe not jumped since my pole vaulting days are over, I would have climbed over that counter... no, it's kinda high. I would have walked all the way around the counter and then stuffed the old lady's face into the fucking Kraukas but I was trying to be a civilized woman so I instead asked her for a pound and a half of ham. THINLY SLICED. That woman got her workout for the year!

However!

After I asked her for a pound of the BLT salad and turned to see where Natalia was, the old mummy started yelling "HELLOOOO HELLOOOO HELLOOO!!" and waving her arms like a schizophrenic goat ON ACID.

I went up, grabbed my GD salad and excused her behavior by saying "Well, that's old people for you. Feel the need to poison you before they die"

I was thisclose to losing my cool in front of the little niece.

I was ashamed of myself until I started telling Andy the story and he laughed and said:

"Bee got served by a mummy!"

So now all I can think about is revenge and how I want to go back and give her a tour of the bottom of my left foot. All close and personal-like.

The ham was good though.

You know, there is a lot to be said for the couple that trusts each other implicitly with all things sacred. Even though you panic and cry the whole time.

Did I forget to mention Andy dyed my hair the weekend of my reunion??

Let me take you back to Saturday day of the lord August 22, 2009.

I was looking at my hair in the mirror and wondering how it was possible that the maroon/red highlight I paid $150 for only lasted 3 weeks leaving behind a brassy orangey pukey color. I made the decision that I would NOT go to my reunion looking like the Hamburglar's less fortunate sister. I looked through my cabinets and found an awesome dye I had from last year.

Here was my dilemma. I have never dyed my own hair. Or anyone else's for that matter. I went to the only other person who was home, ready to plead my case.

Bee: Will you dye my hair?

Andy [without looking away from the computer (before it went Kapluey)]: Sure.

Ahh that is love for you right there! Your heart is feeling all warm and fuzzy...

Until.

Until minuets later. When you're frantically squirming because you're sure he is applying the dye incorrectly and he's patting your head with his big paws, massaging the dye so hard you're sure you're scalp looks like this:

Bee: Dude! You're taking too long in one spot! Don't swirl my hair like that because it'll get tangled! It's not lathering! My hair doesn't even feel wet!

Andy: Settle down! It's fine! Bee! It's fine!!!

He squirted another miniscule drop of dye on the same spot he'd been working for 10 minutes and then shoved my head this way and that with his ginormas panda hands all the while I was stomping my feet because I knew my new nickname would be Streaky Sheila.

Andy: Stop fidgeting you big baby!

Bee: No! No! Stop! You're going to mess up my hair! Oh lord oh lord oh lord!!

Andy [jumping up and down]: You're freaking me out!

Bee [stands up]: Just give me the bottle! Give me the bottle!! I'll finish it! Oh man! I am so screwed holy crap!

We walk to the bathroom.

Andy [frenzied]: What was I doing wrong? I followed the instructions!

Bee: This should be quick Andy! It's not your fault, I blame myself!

Both of us hopping. I'm serious.

Andy [pacing]: Don't ask me next time okay?? Just don't!

Bee: No way am I going to this reunion. No way!

And of course the love I mentioned earlier turns to culpability.

Bee: If you had only applied the color to my hair and not my scalp, I wouldn't be freaking out!

Andy: If you wouldn't leave things to the last minute we wouldn't be having these issues! What do I know about dying hair?

Bee: Get out of the bathroom!! Get out get out!!

Andy: JERK!!

As I'm hysterically applying the rest of the dye and almost passing out from the noxious fumes, I can't decide if I'm angry at Andy or not. On the one hand he was trying to help and on the other hand he was too obstinate to relinquish control once I told him to stop.

I paced for 25 minutes and then took a shower to wash the dye off. As I was brushing my hair later, I couldn't bring myself to look in a mirror. Logically I knew it couldn't be that bad because the hairdresser dyed my hair black and nothing will alter black unless you bleach it out so I guess I don't know why I was in near tears. Lucky for me, everything turned out okay. My hair didn't fall out and it looked awesome. 

Stay tuned for the illustrated version on Sunday.