Don't waste your time taking fashion advice from a six year old...

On Friday I wrote  about my youngest Grandlittle giving me some fashion advice.

So.

When I went to the elementary school to pick up my Grandlittles on Friday, I went all out.

Dug a shirt out of my closet that was an entirely different color and style from my 'usual' uniform.

Broke out the khaki shorts...instead of the jean shorts I wear every day.

Put on make-up.

Including...

...prepare yourself...

...eyeshadow, eyebrow pencil AND mascara.

I put a swipe of black honey near lipstick on.

Man.

I looked different.

Mr. Jenny said to me, "Wow, you look so different."

And I did.

I'm telling ya, true, it gave me some serious pep in my step.

I waited at the school all excited for the bell to ring.

I saw my blond-haired fashion diva swept to the gate in a tsunami of little kids.

I crossed at the crosswalk and gave her a hug.

She was happy.

She didn't notice.

We waited for her sister.

She didn't notice.

We got in the car.

She didn't notice.

We drove home.

She didn't notice.

Finally I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Mo?   Do you notice anything different about me?"

She squinted at me from the back seat.

"Hmmm...no, Grandma.  I love you!"

We got out of the car at my house.

I tried again.  "Mo?   Do you notice anything different about me?"

She squinted at me again.

She looked at me carefully.

"Oh Grandma!   I see!   You need to get those gray hair things fixed.   Right?   Right?  Is that what you meant?   You wanted me to remind you, right?"

I paused.

She paused.

Then she opened the door to run into the kitchen.

But before she did,  she said, "You're welcome, Grandma!  Can we have a snack?"

Hmmmm...

Hmmmm...

Geez.

Different shirt.

Different shorts.

Make up.

And near lipstick.

She didn't notice.

And now my whole wash/dry/wear again rotation is all screwed up.

And on top of that.

I need to make an appointment to get my roots colored.

Sigh.

I hate when that happens...