The Cool Aunt and Her Very Hard Hair

One of my favorite nieces is getting married soon. She is a wonderful young woman and I am looking forward to dancing at her wedding. I stopped by her office today and she introduced me to one of her co-workers. She started to reminisce about a favorite memory of ours. She had been studying hair styling and was getting ready to take her hair licensing exam. She had to bring a person with her to the licensing exam because apparently the powers that be in the hair universe want to see the prospective licensees actually style a real person's hair. No Barbie heads for these folks. She asked me if I would be willing to be her hair model. I was so excited. When she was little I would sit on the floor and she would style my hair for long periods of time. I had barrettes and pony tails and bobby pins. That was many years ago. In my mind, I would get the chance to be the Cool Aunt again so I jumped at the chance. The fact that I had long hair was not the relevant issue. It was definitely the Cool Aunt thing and I am so on board.

A few days before the exam she calls me. Apparently, everyone from the class had to take the school bus together to the examination site. No problem. I am flexible. It has been a while since I rode on a school bus but I am willing to do whatever it takes to be the Cool Aunt. There is a lot of status in being the Cool Aunt. Chances like this don't come along every day. I am good with the school bus experience.
“Oh by the way, Aunt Michelle, we have to be at the bus at 7 am.” followed by a silence.
“No problem. I love early. I will be there.”
Followed by a deep breath sigh of relief on her part.

The next day she calls me back. I am guessing this conversation was prompted by her mom.
“Aunt Michelle I just wanted to tell you that there is no water at the test site. We use hair gel.”
“No problem. I love hair gel. I will be there.”
Followed by another deep breath sigh of relief on her part.
The exam is the next day. I arrived as requested. We boarded the bus and headed for Trenton. I was clearly the oldest hair volunteer on the bus but I was also the only Aunt.

Again, the whole Cool Aunt thing. We are bouncing up and down in the school bus and in one moment I see a can of soda flying toward my niece and her nice white uniform top is not so nice and white anymore. The look on her face can best be described as absolute horror. Fortunately the horror didn't last long. Someone had seltzer water and the soda stain came out. It was wet but air dried after some serious shaking.

We get to the exam sight and she signs in. I am a follower at this point. I sit in the chair and spend the next few hours in a chair having various sections of my hair done. There is a five gallon jug of gel on the counter next to the mirror. Picture a gallon jug. Now picture five gallon jugs. Now picture those five gallon jugs filled with hair gel. Now picture that five gallons of hair gel in your hair all at once. My long hair was literally concrete on my head. It had different styles in each section which is an interesting look in and of itself. Add to that the fact that it was solid like a rock glued to my head. Oh the sacrifices we make to be the Cool Aunt. Five hours later, I have hair plaster and I am informed that the hair powers that be will not even tell my niece if she passed. How dare they! If she didn't pass it would always be an awful Aunt memory. She would have to wait in the mail for her results just like everyone else. UGH. We rode home on the bus with the rest of the potential hair stylists and volunteers while my head was hardening by the second.

I walked in the door. Hubby couldn't stop laughing at my very hard hair. I realized that this was going to need a plan. I washed my hair in the sink. Three times. Before I could actually get my hands through it. Then I got in the shower and washed it three more times. Then I conditioned it. Twice. I did this for the next two days until it was back to normal. It was like the gel kept reappearing even after it was washed. My hair was rebelling. Or the gel was just evil.

A few weeks later my niece called. She passed but had decided not to be a hair stylist. She felt bad because she was not going to be a hair stylist and I had been her volunteer. I didn't care. I wanted for her then exactly what I want for her now, for her to be happy. She had given me a great gift. I got to be the Cool Aunt for a day. We created a memory. A memory that we are still laughing at today. Today she shared our memory. I was thrilled that she remembered the experience fondly and that she shared it with her friend. And I got to be the Cool Aunt again.